


Zero to One

by Tinytokki



Series: Treasure (The Pirate Chronicles of ATEEZ) [2]
Category: ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: ATEEZ (Band) Are Pirates, Abuse, Action/Adventure, Age of Sail, Alternate Universe - Age of Sail, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Pirate, Angst, Being Lost, Capture, Castles, Character Death, Crimes & Criminals, Death, Drama, Duelling, Emotional Manipulation, Escape, Explosions, Family Drama, Fate & Destiny, Fights, Fist Fights, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Guns, Gunshot Wounds, Historical Inaccuracy, Magic, Meddling Kids, Mentions of Death, Orphans, Pirates, Poverty, Series, Sickness, Slavery, Some Humor, Suicide, The Royal Navy, Theft, Treasure Hunting, Violence, Worldbuilding, jailbreak
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-15
Updated: 2019-10-01
Packaged: 2020-06-28 13:40:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 55,841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19813447
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tinytokki/pseuds/Tinytokki
Summary: Wooyoung still couldn’t shake the feeling that had rooted itself in his mind again. Nothing to worry about, he repeated to himself while monitoring the soundless retreat of the ghost ship, once again the watchdog. Nothing to worry about.(The formidable pirate king Hongjoong and his crew aboard the ATEEZ are in search of something left by their mentor and forebear, Eden. Will they find Eden and his treasure or will they succumb to the many enemies and dangers of the seas, losing their way and each other?)





	1. The Ghost Ship

The water sparkled turquoise, reflecting the bright noontime sun. Seagulls cawed overhead loudly, but Eden was focused on pushing a boat off the shallow beach. He turned around and beckoned with a wave. “Come on! There’s nothing to be afraid of!” 

Hongjoong hesitated, digging his feet into the sand. He kept a cautious eye on the clouds in the sky, searching for any sign of bad weather. Eden followed his gaze and shook his head. “The seas are calm. Nothing to worry about.”

Chewing his lip, he remembered a day in the past that had been clear at first, and disastrous later. “Not this time,” he whispered. “I trust Eden.” Sand shifting between his toes, he took a step forward and then a second and then a third. The water was up to his waist by the time he reached the sailboat. “Alright,” Eden grunted softly as he hoisted the boy up and into a seat. “I’ll take the tiller, you’re going to tack.” Hongjoong said nothing but gave his hyung a pleading face. “Just let your body remember,” Eden encouraged with a soft smile.

Grasping the ropes for the sail, something reawakened inside Hongjoong. It was a sensation he hadn’t experienced since he was much younger in a time of innocence and unregulated discovery. Waves of nostalgia washed over him as he crested the ocean waves in his little boat and thought about the exploration that had been the centre of his childhood. A childhood that was snatched away too early, but it seemed was being offered to him again. “You’ve got so much potential, Hongjoong,” Eden sighed from behind. Hongjoong turned to face him, resolved. “Would you teach me?”

...

“Captain? Captain!” Yeosang’s voice seemed to part the heavens and descend to him. “How is the deciphering coming along?” Hongjoong blinked until his eyes could fully open.

Asleep again, this time at the bowsprit, where he had hoped the brisk winds bearing on them would keep him awake. He sighed. “Yes, I’ll do it now, I promise.” With Yeosang’s eyes on him, Hongjoong positioned the magnifying glass over Eden’s map splayed in front of him, and traced it over the blank areas of sea. As he gazed into it, the glass revealed markings of islands, which he traced over with pen to make them readable without the glass. 

“There’s a port two points northeast, that’s the closest stop.” Yeosang looked over his captain’s shoulder, trying not to intrude but longing to witness the navigational magic for himself. Hongjoong nodded. “In all honesty, the ATEEZ desperately needs repairs and we need some recovery time. Assuming the port is neutral, let’s dock there. Since we have this now, I won’t mind waiting a few days to get on course in earnest.” Yeosang couldn’t argue with that logic, and with permission to take the map, retreated to his cabin to update his own charts.

Hongjoong’s eyes lingered on the sea before him. It sparkled the same way it had in his dream. The dream was really a memory, and one Hongjoong thought back to frequently. There was such a yearning in his heart to be reunited with Eden, assured of his safety, and told that he did well. But next to that yearning had grown a new desire over time, one for protecting his own crew. He was their Eden now, and he wanted to do what he could for them, putting their well-being first and helping them reinvent themselves from their own troubled pasts. He watched his men cheerfully go about their work, a secret smile on his face, before succumbing to his ever-present fatigue and retiring to his cabin.

...

Wooyoung had loosened up astronomically in the week or so that had passed as the ATEEZ made its way to the harbour. So much so that he was, in fact, among the troublemakers onboard. When Mingi went to fetch him, he need only follow the sound of his extremely squeaky high pitched laugh to find his location.

Wooyoung was in the rigging with Yunho when Mingi yelled his name from the quarterdeck. Both scampered down with ease and presented themselves to their quartermaster, wondering what they were in trouble for this time. “It’s payday,” Mingi announced, unloading the money bags he had carried over into the confused officers’ arms. “Perfect timing!” Yunho exclaimed, beaming at the cash collecting in his arms. Mingi unleashed his gummy smile and nodded enthusiastically. “Enough for the tavern and the sauna this time! It’s been awhile since the last payday.” Wooyoung’s eyeballs almost flew out of their sockets as the money kept coming. “This is all for me?” Mingi giggled at him shamelessly. “You’re an officer, remember?” Wooyoung was speechless and began to count his earnings as Mingi chatted with Yunho. “You think they’ll have a sauna at the port? We are a good ways from the last one we visited...”

“Where’s San?” Wooyoung interrupted, already taking a step towards the infirmary. Yunho’s arm shot out and grasped his. “Talking to Seonghwa,” he muttered, an edge to his voice that Wooyoung heard and understood. His mouth formed the shape of an “ah” but he didn’t say anything. All three of them knew it would be best to wait until the two had finished their confrontation before bursting in with good news. Instead Wooyoung helped the conversation resume. “Saunas on the eastern islands? I don’t know, but perhaps you can find a natural hot spring.”

...

“What I did was unforgivable,” San faced Seonghwa with carefully composed strength and confessed. There was no more waiting. Leaving the truth unspoken between them could only ever strain their relationship and those around them, and San knew he had done enough harm as it was. “I’ll understand if you want to stay away from me.” 

“No, San, I understand perfectly,” Seonghwa comforted quietly. “I saw a vision when I was there, too.” San shook his head bitterly. “But you ignored it. I didn’t.” It felt like the room was closing in. Both were silent for a long time. “There was so much blood.” Sobs began to surface, breaking through his defences and racking his body. “I’ve seen blood like that before but I’ve never seen your blood and on my hands, Seonghwa-hyung!” Seonghwa’s hands played with the threads of his blanket. Everything had come back to him as San explained, haltingly, and almost too quietly to be heard. The book he had been reading before San came in to take off his bandages lay paralysed on the table next to him. 

Something inside Seonghwa was twisting around uncomfortably, a feeling of being stuck midway in a battle, ducking until the crossfire let up. He had a decision to make. The San in his mind held a steaming gun and had wild eyes, but the San in front of him was vulnerable, shaking under the pressure of sobs being held back. Seonghwa’s eyes drifted down to his wound. A scar graced his torso, a constant presence to remind him how he came by it. Part of him yearned for justice and needed to see the end of the demonic San of his imagination. But he could see how fragile this had made the younger boy and knew any turmoil he felt over this must be kept in, neatly packed away somewhere to stay untouched and unspoken so that Seonghwa could forget about it and put an end to San’s self-inflicted suffering.

“San, look at me.” San acted as if he wasn’t already peeking at him from the corner of his eye and shuffled his position to face his patient fully. “I forgive you,” Seonghwa said. “I know you meant no harm— the real you. And I know you would do anything to take back that bullet. I’m going to be fine, see? Already scarring over. Let’s put it behind us.” San released a shaky breath. Seonghwa had truly risen above his circumstances to offer San this peace of mind. “Never talk about it again?” San whispered, wiping the tears off his face. Seonghwa nodded and beckoned the boy in for a hug. San whimpered a thank you and curled up in his arms. Seonghwa’s cheek rested on the green hair and he kept the grimace off his face as San’s hiccups distressed his fresh scar. 

If that’s what it took to ease the atmosphere, he would do it a hundred times.

...

Finally docked in the port of the nearest settled and neutral island all eight officers departed excitedly for their night on the town. Everyone was in a good mood and ready for an enjoyable time. 

Wooyoung had to admit he was truly happy. His doubts at the beginning of his time on the ATEEZ had not been unfounded, and the voyage had not been without its difficult moments but what he had gained out of it was more special than anything he had ever had in his life. What he had on Si-Hyuk’s ship was never really camaraderie but a shared fear and a loose bond formed around desires to make it to the next meal if it ever came. He wondered distantly if those little boys would open up onboard the ATEEZ as well, or if they were beyond saving.

“Five silver pieces says you can’t lift me with your neck!” Jongho’s challenge to San shook Wooyoung out of his reverie. San looked appalled. “No way I’m taking that up! I need this for the rum!” “Five pieces says you can’t lift me with your neck!” Wooyoung spoke up, turning the bet around on Jongho who simply laughed and held his hand in front of the pair, halting them. “Watch this!” He announced confidently before leaning down behind Wooyoung, grabbing him from the backs of his legs and lifting him up with his neck onto his shoulders. “No!” Wooyoung protested, throwing his head back in despair as the hyungs all laughed at him. 

Five silver pieces short was still enough for the booze Wooyoung wanted to order, and soon all eight of them were seated around a table in a tavern enjoying their drinks and conversation. “How about a game?” Yunho suggested. “Oh! Let’s play the animal ga—“ “Not the animal game,” Yeosang cut Mingi off with a death glare. “Your giraffe will get us kicked out of this pub.” Yunho observed Mingi’s pout and made another suggestion. “How about the drawing guessing game?” “But we don’t have any parchment,” Jongho pointed out before offering his own idea. “We could do an acrostic game.” The company oohed and ahhed at the suggestion before agreeing on it and beginning a wild competition. By the end of the night nearly all of them were tipsy and several sported the red foreheads that resulted from finger flicking punishment for losing. 

There was still work to be done the next day so the older four members dragged themselves out of their beds in the morning and went back into town. Yeosang shook a sluggish Wooyoung awake just before noon and brought him along with them to do some bartering in the market. 

Next over from the stall they were at, a group of men had caught Mingi’s attention and seemed to be having a conversation with him. “What’s that all about?” Wooyoung grabbed Yeosang’s sleeve and pulled on it until he got an answer. “Just locals looking for work. If they’re competent, we’ll probably take them. We lost those men who deserted in the doldrums, remember.” 

Hongjoong joined the conversation with Mingi, briefly explaining the course of their expedition. “We understand the risks, but we’d like to be hired regardless,” the spokesman of the hopeful workers responded. He had an almost square jaw, intense eyebrows, and short hair. “I’ve got a dozen men here, all experienced on the water. My name is Seunghyun.”

Hongjoong scanned him up and down before offering his hand, which was taken. Seunghyun bowed while they shook hands, turning and relating the news to his followers gathered behind him. “You’ll be split up according to our needs, but we’ll take you on,” Hongjoong concluded before gathering his purchases and returning to the ship. 

“Ready?” Yeosang had to wave his hand in front of Wooyoung’s face to capture his attention again. “Oh? Yes. Have we got everything?” Wooyoung stopped eavesdropping to help Yeosang carry the supplies back to the ATEEZ. The walk back was quiet, but Yeosang could tell Wooyoung was deep in thought about something. “What is it?” He finally sighed. “Those men...” Wooyoung lowered his voice almost to a whisper, leaning in to share his suspicion. “They seem quite nervous about something.” Yeosang looked back over his shoulder, observing the new recruits as they followed them to their frigate. He nodded almost imperceptibly to Wooyoung. “You’re right. Maybe it’s just paranoia. The Eastern Sea is dangerous, but they sounded desperate for employment.” Wooyoung didn’t answer but the air was still thin around them. “I’m sure Captain picked up on it too. Nothing to worry about.” Yeosang sounded as if he had convinced himself, but both knew better at this point.

Once the ship was careened and back in top shape, she set sail for the island with the X marked on it, which was slightly southeast and only a few days’ journey away. All the sailors were glad to be at sea again, having had trouble adjusting to their land legs. The winds were on their side and soon half of the journey had passed without incident. The new hands hadn’t caused any issues but were withdrawn from the rest of the crew in a way that Hongjoong didn’t appreciate. 

The Captain was on the watch before sunrise when a figure approached the quarterdeck and kept walking in the direction of the Captain’s quarters until Hongjoong called him out. He turned abruptly, face coming into view in the soft lamplight. It was Seunghyun.

“Can I help you with something?” Captain asked the man. “No, sir, just answering the call of nature.” Hongjoong wasn’t buying it for a second. He could see the handle of a weapon peeking out. “You need to bring your knife to relieve yourself?” Hongjoong’s flesh was crawling at the complete lack of a change in expression as he showed him two empty hands. Unflinching, Hongjoong reached straight into the man’s pocket and pulled out his knife. “I don’t like liars, Seunghyun.” “All due respect, Captain,” Seunghyun whispered. “But I never said anything.” Hongjoong’s eyes narrowed at the implication. “That had better not be a challenge.” Seunghyun raised his head slightly, an air of quiet confidence emanating from him. “It is.” “Are you out of your mind?” Hongjoong scoffed but Seunghyun ignored it. “A duel. Not to the death. Just for fun.” They stared at each other for a moment longer before Hongjoong crossed his arms. “You’re very eager to be humiliated in front of your friends.” Seunghyun shrugged with a “We’ll see” and walked away casually. “Don’t let me catch you on my quarterdeck again!” Hongjoong pursed his lips discreetly as he returned to the wheel. This wasn’t going to end well.

...

Seunghyun didn’t let Hongjoong forget about their nightly agreement and, as soon as it was sunrise, looked directly at him and drew his sword. Not even the officers had any idea what was happening when Hongjoong walked down calmly to the main deck and drew his own sword.

Jongho threw down the rope he was holding and rushed to intervene but stopped in his tracks at the Captain’s raised hand. “It’s my fight, Jongho.” His eyes stayed on his opponent and suddenly they clashed blades. A gasp swept through the gathering crowd and a ring formed around the two contenders. They were acknowledging an unspoken challenge between their crossed swords, neither one backing down. “What is—“ Mingi pushed past some fascinated riggers to see what was happening. “Captain!” Yunho held Mingi back. “Let him take care of it,” he cautioned. Hongjoong broke the standoff and swept his weapon at Seunghyun’s neck. Seunghyun ducked and returned a blow that was evaded. Spinning around with masterful footwork, Hongjoong had the challenger pinned and disarmed in a matter of minutes. “Well, that didn’t last very long, did it?” He growled, inches from Seunghyun’s face. Embarrassment bloomed in the defeated sailor but again his expression was hardened and unchanged. “I see that it hasn’t. Well done, Captain.” 

Hongjoong let him up but didn’t accept his handshake, turning his back and returning to the helm, sword back in its sheath. The onlookers gaped at the swiftness of the battle before obeying Mingi’s call of “Back to work!”

Not five minutes had passed when Yunho yelled from the crow’s nest. “Sail ho!” Instead of staying at his station as usual, the master rigger rushed down the webs of rope and ran to the bow of the ship with his telescope. “Sir, the ship looks completely devastated...” There was a sail, but it was tattered and useless.

A sense of macabre hung about it as it loomed in the distance, creeping close enough for everyone to see. “I don’t like the direction it’s heading,” Hongjoong whispered. Still Wooyoung heard him and scrutinised the mysterious ship’s path. He understood his captain’s misgivings. The weather beaten bow of the frigate was pointed straight at them.

“C-Captain?” Yunho called out from the bow. The deck of the approaching ship was completely empty. “No one’s onboard...” Jongho frowned from his spot at the rail. “No one’s onboard, or everyone’s hiding.” He shook his head at the others. “I don’t like it.” Jongho was voicing what everyone else could feel in their gut. Something had happened here, and the ATEEZ was about to encounter it with no context. There was a hushed drone of men discussing the sighting with each other. 

Hongjoong checked the contents of his gun and, deciding it was fit enough to proceed, called the officers to him. “Jongho, Yunho and Mingi with me. We’re going to board and investigate. I want the rest of you to keep a close eye on the horizon and our new friends. Be watchful.” With that he and his newly formed team prepared to board the swiftly approaching vessel. Wooyoung did as he was told, and stood at attention on the quarterdeck, ignoring the stirring in his stomach. “Bad feeling?” Yeosang whispered from behind him. “I get them all the time,” Wooyoung rationalised. “Nothing to worry about.” He echoed Yeosang’s own words from before, a jab that didn’t escape the older officer. 

“Captain!” A familiar voice arrived from the main deck. Hongjoong stopped in his tracks, eyes pressed shut in quiet annoyance. He turned to face Seunghyun who was approaching. Mingi stepped between the two, trying to use his height to intimidate. “The Captain didn’t give you permission to come to the quarterdeck—“ “I recognise the ship,” Seunghyun cut him off, ignoring his presence entirely and locking eyes with Hongjoong. “Let me come, I might be of some use.” 

Only the noise of wood and water punctuated the silence. “Very well.” “Captain!” Yunho exclaimed. “It’s a chance to redeem himself,” Hongjoong explained briefly before signalling to have the boards ready at the side rail. The rest of his team followed without further protest and crossed the boards to the mysterious ship.

Immediately an air of death penetrated the surroundings. Each creak of the vessel’s frame sent a shiver down Mingi’s spine as he followed the company, bringing up the rear. Hongjoong kept Seunghyun talking about the make and territory of the foreign ship as they crossed onto unfamiliar territory, getting everything he could about its purpose in the Eastern Sea out of the man. “What business did he have challenging Captain to a duel anyway?” Jongho’s voice was just loud enough for Yunho to hear and answer, “My guess is he made a mistake of some kind and thought he could get his honour back by beating him.” An amused smirk etched onto his face. “Obviously that didn’t work out.” The two muffled their snickers as the group made their way into the hold.

“Split up,” Hongjoong ordered, receiving nods from all parties. It was Seunghyun in the gun deck who found a heap of bodies rotting in bilge water and ran to fetch Hongjoong. “Dead bodies again...” the Captain grimaced at the putrefying smell. He leaned forward to observe closely, reaching out a hand and checking the elasticity of what was left of the skin. “I wouldn’t touch that,” Mingi warned, hurrying in with Jongho and Yunho, obviously put out at not being summoned.

“They died of some kind of sickness.” It dawned on Hongjoong suddenly and he took a step back.  
“Why weren’t they flying a yellow jack?” Mingi snapped, accusing eyes on Seunghyun. “How should I know? It’s not my ship!” “You said you’d seen it before. Where?” Jongho joined in. “It just looks like some of the other ones I see in this area, I don’t have anything more specific, sir,” Seunghyun’s tone almost slipped into disrespect but he caught himself. Mingi averted his gaze, trying to cool off. “You three find anything else of worth on this skeleton of a ship?” Hongjoong cleared the tension. Yunho shook his head. “It’s just the bare bones. I think they’ve been dead and adrift for some time.” That seemed correct judging by the state of the bodies as well and Hongjoong acknowledged it before leading the group above deck. 

The officers met briefly on the quarterdeck to hear the report, struggled to keep their food down, and agreed unanimously to move on. Wooyoung still couldn’t shake the feeling that had rooted itself in his mind again. Nothing to worry about, he repeated to himself while monitoring the soundless retreat of the ghost ship, once again the watchdog. Nothing to worry about.


	2. Mutiny

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Oh thank you, hyung,” Mingi finally released the built up tension in his chest, lowering his head into his hands. “I could never do it alone.” He sniffed in embarrassment and rubbed tears out of his eyes until Seonghwa appeared by his side, guiding him into a hug. “You’ll never need to,” he reassured him. Both were weighed down by the gravity of the odds stacked against their leader. “Hey, hey,” he shushed the younger boy. “We’ve come through worse.” Mingi nodded as his weeping quieted, but he didn’t speak what was both on their minds.
> 
> We’ve never done it without Hongjoong.

Summer was bearing down stronger than ever on the ATEEZ. Wooyoung swept his arm across his sweaty forehead every few minutes for hours on end as he toiled under the hot sun cleaning cannons. Left and right, sailors were shedding articles of clothing to cool off and eventually Wooyoung gave in and dropped his shirt in the pile. 

“Are those ribs I see?” Jongho teased from the forecastle. “We can’t all have your physique, Jongho,” Wooyoung fired back, smirking when their youngest reeled in fake indignation. “I take offence at that! You certainly could if you joined the morning exercises I invited you to!” Wooyoung was preparing another jab at Jongho when Yunho appeared from the rigging and joined in. “At least you two have a decent tan! It appears as if my skin hasn’t seen the sun in months.” All the boys laughed at the truth of this statement, but sobered on the arrival of their captain, who was eyeing the pile of shirts. 

“Are you quite comfortable, sir?” Wooyoung joked, not expecting a response. “If you think I trust any of you enough to take off this jacket and put it in the pile, you’re wrong,” Hongjoong put a protective hand on his lapels before returning to the pile. “Do these need mending or are you just overheating in them?” “Captain, it’s sweltering out here!” Yunho exclaimed. Hongjoong looked up at his master rigger. “While we’re on the subject of mending, do me a favour will you and fetch the flag. There’s a small tear in it I’d like to patch up.” Yunho laughed and obliged, flying up the ropes with effortless speed and lowering their special flag. Hongjoong took it back to his quarters with a word of thanks and nothing more. “Does he always sew everything himself?” Wooyoung turned to the other officers. Jongho tilted his head in thought. “Mostly, yes. He taught Seonghwa to patch sails but everything else, he does on his own.” Wooyoung smiled fondly at the back of the retreating captain. “He’s got such a bold sense of style, so uniquely commanding, but what for?” 

Jongho laughed wholeheartedly at this. “I’ve no idea, hyung! That’s just what captains do.”

...

There was rum and dancing after supper that night, but Hongjoong felt unwell and retired early, offering a flippant excuse of heat exhaustion. For him, the night was long and sleepless. A disquieting sensation had settled inside that he was losing strength, each passing hour sucking more out of him. Somewhere in the back of his mind he knew he was becoming sicker than he’d ever been. As morning dawned, Hongjoong brought a shaking hand to his forehead and immediately drew it back. His skin was burning at a dangerous temperature and he shifted uncomfortably in his already soaked sheets before giving up and rising to take the morning watch.

The world reeled from the motion of standing and there was a tight pain in his stomach, strong enough that his face was plastered into a grimace. Hongjoong inhaled shakily, trying to clear his mind and return to his work. He would have to keep it together in front of the crew, construct a façade and hang onto it while he figured out what was going on.

Half a week of clear skies and speedy winds served the crew well and cheered spirits, largely dissolving tensions between sailors new and old. Reassigned to one of Wooyoung’s gun teams, Seunghyun caused no trouble and his unprecedented duel was near forgotten. However, the mistake of one of his lower-rank friends soon became a frigate wide issue. 

“He left the food stores unsecured, and now we have a rat problem,” Mingi explained to a distracted Hongjoong. “I love the life of a pirate! But I hate rats.” Jongho quipped to Wooyoung, unashamed at having overheard a private conversation. Mingi chattered on, already finished with the damage report before he realised he was completely unheeded. “Captain?”

Hongjoong snapped out of it, wide-eyed but desperately trying to create a semblance of attentiveness. “Yes! Rats?” Mingi squinted at him, and he knew he had been quiet just a moment too long. The ruse was up. “What’s wrong?” Wooyoung and Jongho perked up again from their corner of the quarterdeck, doing their best to appear indifferent, while Hongjoong tried to convince his second in command that everything was fine. “Maybe you should lie down?” Mingi’s voice was lowered for privacy’s sake but insistent nonetheless. “It’s nothing! Why don’t we work on the rat problem instead?” 

“Come on, Captain, a nap won’t hurt anything!” The words slipped out of Wooyoung’s mouth almost before he was aware. Both captain and quartermaster gaped at him from the helm. Whoops... Hongjoong stalked across the deck and drew up just an inch too close to Wooyoung for his liking. “Not a word of this to anyone, do you hear? It’s nothing, but it’ll get blown out of proportion if it reaches the men.” Though tempted to fire back, Wooyoung lowered his head and nodded submissively. 

He watched the bright red jacket of his captain retreat, swaying slightly with each step, and turned with a frown to Jongho. “It’s not nothing, we both know that,” he gritted out. Jongho hummed a yes, eyes fixed on Hongjoong. “I don’t think there’s anything we can do, though. Even San can’t help him if he refuses treatment.”

Wooyoung’s eyes narrowed, a plan unfolding in his mind. “He wouldn’t do something as brainless as that, would he?”

It was 2AM a day later and Wooyoung was outside the Captain’s door with a fake story about some frayed nets at the ready as an excuse, when it turned out he didn’t need it. Hongjoong didn’t answer, even after five knocks. Wooyoung fetched San and the two of them crept inside. Sure enough, Hongjoong lay sweating and whining quietly in a mess of blankets. 

“Sir?” Their leader shot up, hand clutching his gun, and for a moment didn’t recognise them. “I’m fi—“ “You’re not,” San cut him off verbally, but physically was still cautious in approaching until the gun was lowered. “It’s alright, we won’t tell. Just let me treat you.” 

Hongjoong collapsed back into bed, in a sitting position that was more like a slump, and gripped his head in his hands. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me... I just woke up like this five days ago and I don’t know what it is—“ “Five days?” San plopped down at the foot of the bed, already holding his lantern up to the Captain’s face and examining it. “You should have told me!” 

“I don’t know what it is, San,” Hongjoong bit out. “I need to be fit for command. We’re too close for something minor like this to get in the way.” “Something minor!” San gawked at him and threw up his free hand.

“How many fingers am I holding up?”

“San...”

“Tell me how many fingers!”

“It’s dark! I don’t know, I can’t see any!”

Wooyoung shook his head from his spot near the window and pinched his nose. “Let me tell the other officers.” It was more of a statement than a question, and Hongjoong frowned at him from the bed. “They need to know if you are unfit for command!” The sickly leader groaned in a mix of protest and nausea. “Let San check me first,” he finally sighed, beginning to succumb to the fatigue blooming in his limbs. San shook his head as he shone the light in unfocused eyes. “I need to go read up on this before I make a call. But I think we can all agree that it would be most prudent of you to remain in bed and avoid spreading it until the judgement is passed.” He sent a pointed glare to his patient on his way out. Wooyoung followed and closed the door gently behind him. His exterior was stern but inside a nagging worry began to snowball out of control.

Something was really wrong here.

...

Mingi announced a rat-killing competition, offering double rum rations for the man that brought him the most dead vermin, as a sly way to keep the crew busy and clueless to the absence of their Captain on deck as his health rapidly declined. Wooyoung was posted as supervision and to keep the hunt from turning into a brawl as the crew got rowdy. He had been doing his best to keep his attention off of San’s studying which was vicious and more frenzied every day. Occasionally he disappeared into the Captain’s quarters to observe something or ask a question, but the surgeon spent most of his time in his sickbay getting his hands on every relevant material he could find. 

From this fact alone, Wooyoung knew they were dealing with something deadly. He sat with Yunho in the crow’s nest, overlooking a perfectly swabbed deck with nothing else to do but mind the winds and sail on. Even when silent, the master rigger’s presence was comforting. Every time they sat up there, sometimes loud and sometimes peaceful, Wooyoung always experienced a sense of home. This time, Yunho knew he needed to talk. Wooyoung felt soft eyes on him before a soft voice followed.

“It’s unnerving, isn’t it.” 

Wooyoung nodded. “San running around like a chicken with his head cut off to find out what the sickness is...” he trailed off, not wanting to create a whole affair about it, but Yunho knew what he meant. “Exactly. It’s not encouraging. But I do think he’s getting close, he hasn’t slept at all the past couple of days.” Yunho watched the men moving around on deck, minuscule as ants from his towering vantage point. “I do wish he’d come to our cabin at least and tell me what he’s finding.” “Maybe if Captain wasn’t so difficult,” Wooyoung knew his tone was more bitter than Yunho was used to from him. 

Yunho wasn’t upset but couldn’t help but shake his head. “You’re not understanding his reasons. Hongjoong-hyung isn’t resisting because he doesn’t care whether the crew is in danger, it’s just part of his struggle with—with being strong for us.” Wooyoung was confused. “Captain’s always...” Yunho was struggling to put words to emotions. “He’s always been so driven to spend himself on us. To give his time and energy to the commanding of this ship, one that he created with his own two hands, you know. Sure, he’s stubborn, but he knows what’s best ultimately and he’ll surrender when his body forces him to. I only wish that wasn’t the case.”

It was interesting to see Yunho, a tall, intimidating boy with the heart of a child and a truly light personality, so serious about something. He was still easy to talk to, and Wooyoung was still relaxed enough to ask a more personal question. “How exactly did you meet him?”

Yunho smiled sheepishly at the memory. “It was when my brother and I were living on the street. We had escaped the orphanage and to provide for our needs I begged, fought in street fights, and occasionally stole change. It was a wild time! I was picking food out of the rubbish at a tavern one morning when I saw a boy at the bar with a bag of silver hanging at his belt. Hongjoong-hyung, but I didn’t know his reputation then. To me he was just some random kid. He was certainly too young legally to buy rum so as he sweet talked the bartender I snatched the money bag. I made it two steps before a gun was on my back and a sword at my neck. And yet to give me a chance to win the money for myself, he challenged me to a fist fight. That was his mistake! He put up a decent fight but I beat him, and he offered me employment. I didn’t want to leave my brother but... the promise of enough money to buy a comfortable life convinced me. I’ll go back for him one day, when all this is over and the treasure is found.” He told the tale with a soft smile, reminiscence twinkling over his face. 

“Have you ever doubted the existence of the treasure?” Wooyoung’s question was quiet, treading carefully among the stars in Yunho’s eyes. Yunho’s expression didn’t waver but he turned to Wooyoung expectantly. “Perhaps the question you’re really asking is ‘have you ever doubted your captain’?” Wooyoung blushed but didn’t deny it. “And I can assure you I have not. I trust him, and he trusts the way to treasure. He’s never given me reason to doubt.” The answer was satisfactory, and Wooyoung gave a small squeeze of gratitude to the rigger’s shoulder.

“Officers report to the Captain’s quarters!” Seonghwa’s yell reached the crow’s nest and Wooyoung felt a sinking feeling hit his stomach. When everyone was present and the door was thrice locked, San began explaining his discoveries. 

“The symptoms are those of gaol fever so far. If it is some strain of that disease then you must have contracted it from the dead bodies you touched aboard that ghost ship. Those people must have escaped a prison where it was prevalent.” Hongjoong sat at his desk, complacent, before asking, “Has anyone else caught it?” San shook his head. “The period of time that it actively spreads must have passed while you were confined here. My other working theory is that the catalyst of the disease was already near death on the ghost ship and is significantly weakened now, having infected you. Still, I suggest we exercise caution and use good hygiene.”

Here he was lost in his mind for a moment, the stuffy room suffocating his thoughts. “Will he...recover?” Seonghwa put forward the officers’ collective concern. “It...I...I can’t promise anything. No one has survived anything like this, but that doesn’t mean it’s impossible! It just means there’s not much I can do to heal you.” Here he stared at Hongjoong with shining and apologetic eyes. But their leader nodded as if he had known all along. “I’ll do what I can,” San recognised guilt forming again and let it go. “But the fight is yours, Captain.”

“There’s a rash now,” Hongjoong admitted, resisting the urge to squirm in his chair. “A sign of regression...” San almost whispered. “You may inform the crew,” he directed his words to Mingi, who by right had command now. “My official judgement is that he is unfit for command.” Wooyoung’s heart went a mile a minute, and he couldn’t get over the sensation that he was hearing something unintended for his ears. “How long?” Hongjoong’s voice was steady. He didn’t need to utter the rest of his question for the others to know what he was asking. “At best... two weeks,” San choked out before turning away. The room was spinning in Wooyoung’s eyes from shock. He focused on San’s shaking back to reorient himself before running to him and enclosing his tense form in his arms. “I’m so sorry,” the doctor was whispering. “There’s nothing I can do.”

Hongjoong himself had his head in his hands and was refusing eye contact with anyone. He allowed Seonghwa to drag him to bed as silence lingered. The officers stood still, trying to work through what they had just heard. Finally Seonghwa grabbed Mingi and stepped out for a discussion. The others were useless for the rest of the day, eventually retiring and, in the case of San, poring over books all evening again once released from Wooyoung’s grip. Sleep escaped Wooyoung, and he stared at the boards of the ceiling devoid of even aimless thought. 

...

The fire in the kitchen crackled steadily, glowing in the two pairs of eyes that observed it. “It’s your charge as quartermaster. This isn’t a conversation we need to have,” Seonghwa’s voice was almost as distant as his thoughts. Mingi’s eyes were shining with unshed tears, yet flames danced in them. “I know... and I suppose I took the responsibility on myself when I accepted the position. But you and I both know I’m not the candidate who is cut out for it. You are.”

With a shake of the head and a shuddering breath, Seonghwa tried to make Mingi understand. “You’re saying that because you never wanted it to be your responsibility. It’s only proper that you take...” His brow knit together in remorse. “...take what’s yours by right.” “Seonghwa-hyung,” Mingi whined. “I’m not trying to put the pressure on you so I can avoid shouldering the burden, but think of the crew’s need for leadership. At the very least, couldn’t we share it?” 

“What would he say to that, I wonder?” Seonghwa looked to the door, half expecting Captain to walk in and tell them himself. “I feel silly even considering it. But we need to agree on our course of action, whatever it is. So maybe... maybe that’s the best option. The two of us delegating duties and making the important decisions together. And we both know our most important task is to find land and someone who can help.” He followed a floating spark with his eyes until it went out, wishing he could wake up from this egregious dream. “If we have to take command, let it only be brief.”

“Oh thank you, hyung,” Mingi finally released the built up tension in his chest, lowering his head into his hands. “I could never do it alone.” He sniffed in embarrassment and rubbed tears out of his eyes until Seonghwa appeared by his side, guiding him into a hug. “You’ll never need to,” he reassured him. Both were weighed down by the gravity of the odds stacked against their leader. “Hey, hey,” he shushed the younger boy. “We’ve come through worse.” Mingi nodded as his weeping quieted, but he didn’t speak what was both on their minds.

We’ve never done it without Hongjoong.

...

“Wouldn’t it make sense that a cure could exist in the east for a disease that only exists in the east?”

San chewed slowly on his bite of breakfast and thought aloud. Yeosang narrowed his eyes at him over his spoon. It had been established as an unspoken rule that the officers wouldn’t discuss Hongjoong’s condition, even amongst themselves. No one could blame San for continuing to search for answers, however, and they all grunted some noise of agreement before returning to their meals. 

“I mean, there’s no record of any effective treatment for gaol fever, but this isn’t exactly the same thing, so is it possible...?” Finally Yeosang dropped his spoon into the bowl. “San, are you saying there could be a cure somewhere out here?” Suddenly aware of the attention on him, San became defensive. “Well, like I said, I don’t know. Really! I don’t! But...” “It would be worth a try?” Mingi cocked his head to the side, understanding where San was going with this. “Mingi, of course it would be worth a try! I’ve only been looking at known illnesses and this is something unknown which means of course there’s a chance. But it’s not my call, it’s yours and Seonghwa’s. And I suppose Yeosang’s if he can tell us where the nearest inhabited land is.” Yeosang sighed at the out of place sarcasm. “Yes, I can tell you once I look at my maps. But do you know what type of cure to look for?” San nodded, almost eagerly. “I’ve got it narrowed down between a few different concoctions. Get me to an apothecary and I’ll buy their most useful medicine.” 

For the next day Wooyoung could be found faithfully at the crow’s nest with Yunho, waiting to sight land. The atmosphere was rife with agitation, and when he spotted it, the buzz around him grew. Land was a blueish green tinted shadow on the horizon, but to Wooyoung it held the promise of saving grace. “Let it not be a wasted trip,” Yeosang mumbled, mostly to himself, but Wooyoung heard and countered with a nervous chuckle, “Optimism only please, Yeosang!” 

Mingi called the crewmen together as they pulled up to the dock and announced “Dismissal for the afternoon. I expect you back at sunset.” He didn’t pay much attention to the practically forgotten Seunghyun and followers, who hung around the ATEEZ instead of exploring the harbour.

Seonghwa was at the helm, surveying the deck below for remaining rats, when he noticed Yeosang hanging around just past his peripherals. He grew in concern watching the younger boy who stared off into space as if his mind was running in circles. “Everything alright?”

There was a pause and a tilt of the head before Yeosang answered, “Well, we both know it’s not.” His lips were pursed again, white rimmed and dry. Seonghwa leaned heavier on the wheel, mentally begging Yeosang not to go there. “I mean, last time I poked my head in he looked hours off from leaving us.” Seonghwa’s heart wrenched into a tight knot inside him. He couldn’t figure out if Yeosang was angry or something else. “He still hasn’t addressed us properly with—with instructions or advice or...or last words,” tears were bubbling to the surface, clouding his vision. 

“We’re running out of time,” he cried and Seonghwa was there in an instant. His own breath was coming out in shaky bursts and finally he had to break down as well. “I don’t know what to say,” Seonghwa admitted, scrubbing his face furiously. He had been putting everyone else back together as they split at the seams but when it came down to it, he wasn’t sure he could convince himself it would all be fine. “I’m scared too.”

Yeosang nodded at the voicing of his thoughts. Without the guilty eyes of the dying on them, they forgot everything and wept together. 

...

Yunho’s eyes were rimmed with red. San took note and refrained from bringing it up. No need to point out how poorly they were faring in this disaster. The hunt was soon well underway. The pair had taken off to scope out the new wharf while the others stayed onboard.

“What is this place?” Yunho caught the attention of a woman who passed them on the docks. “Geobugi- the last pirate haven in the east.” After jogging through the streets of the small seaside town, San located the apothecary shop on the southern outskirts. For being a remote establishment, it was still fairly busy. Impatience radiated off of him as he stood in line listening to the string of detailed advice being given about plant care to the patron in front of him. When it was their turn he clasped his hands and opened his mouth before being cut off.

“Let me guess, you need to save a wilting rose too.”

...

Hongjoong had descended into incoherent mumbling and fits of coughs. Mingi, Wooyoung, and Jongho played a card game in the corner of the Captain’s quarters, unsure of what to do during each episode. Just as Wooyoung was about to win the game a single knock sounded from the door, followed by a crashing sound as it was thrown open. All three stood in shock at the sight of Seunghyun and his accomplices barging in. Seonghwa and Yeosang were trapped in their arms, two swords precariously balanced at their necks. 

“What is the meaning of this!” Mingi took a step back as Seunghyun’s men tightened their grips on the prisoners. “This, silly boy, is a mutiny,” Seunghyun laughed back. He hummed a lazy tune and sauntered over to the bedridden Captain, who at some point had become aware that his room was being invaded. Hongjoong’s gun was locked, loaded, and aimed but a thin stream of blood winding down Yeosang’s neck lowered the weapon by itself. Seunghyun tutted at the shaking captain, limp hair plastered to his forehead, and held his hand out palm up. “Weapons, please.”

With the last of the officers’ guns the power was officially in the hands of the mutineers. Wooyoung held Yeosang’s fearful gaze and tried to send him a withering smile. To his surprise, the captors removed the biting metal from their necks and shoved them at the other three, causing a collision and knocking over the card table. “You’re not killing us?” Seonghwa’s question was bold but sensible. Seunghyun ignored him and drew his own sword, placing the long cold edge against Hongjoong’s throat. “No. I need you to help raise the anchor, or he dies.”

“I’ll tear your flesh off if you touch him,” Jongho wasted no time making threats. “I don’t think you’ll get very far, child,” Seunghyun teased, pressing the blade closer.  
“Power was transferred peacefully,” Mingi shouted back. “You have no reason to mutiny!” Again the ringleader laughed. “You’ll figure it out soon enough. Now! Unfurl the sails, we have places to be.”

...

Yunho and San were already running down the hill with their prize when they spotted the ATEEZ. “Why are they leaving?” San was stopped in his tracks. Yunho ran a hand through his hair. “There’s no way the crew already reboarded!” To pick up the pace, he scooped up San and carried him on his back, covering the distance to the dock in long strides. When the surgeon was back on the ground he looked around wildly for their seamen. A dozen or so of their crew came running in behind them from the town all jumping, waving, and yelling in outrage at being left behind.

“Stay here, all of you,” Yunho instructed hastily. “We’ll go figure out what’s happening and come back for you.” With that he turned and dove off the end of the dock. San secured the medicine under his clothes and followed him.

“I see them!” Wooyoung’s sharp eyes were directed out the back of the ship through the tall windows of the captain’s cabin where they were confined. “Someone fetch a rope!” Luckily, Hongjoong had his canvas bag in the room and there was enough rope to lower it to the two swimmers. Jongho secured the end to his own frame and braced himself on the desk while Yunho and San climbed up and were helped in by the other officers. “A last minute boarding,” Yunho gasped out, shaking water from his head. “Who is at the helm?” San surveyed the room in a panic. 

“It’s Seunghyun. He and his minions staged a mutiny,” Seonghwa bit out, pulling up and stowing the rope. “He’s locked us in here and stolen Yeosang’s maps,” Mingi continued for him. “We don’t know where we’re going or why but he won’t kill any of us... I think.” Yunho frowned. “Are there plans to take back the ship?” Jongho was righting the card table and shaking his head, “They far outnumber us now that the entire crew has been left behind. Did you at least find medicine?” San nodded vigorously, pulling the little vial out safe and sound. He took it straight to Hongjoong’s bedside.

“How are you?” The question was inadequate for the pain San could see swimming in the Captain’s eyes.

“Alive.”

Hearing his voice crack between puffs of air, San shuffled around to pour a glass of water and helped him sip it. “I’ve got something to help you, if it’s not too late,” the surgeon told his patient softly, uncorking the bottle. “It won’t taste great but it may save your life, hyung.”

Trapped in Hongjoong’s room, the officers made do and spread their extra garments on the floor, sleeping in a huddled formation. San opted to pull up a chair next to the captain’s bed and keep an eye on him through the night. It took awhile with Yeosang’s arm flung across him and Jongho’s feet next to his face but eventually Wooyoung drifted off.

...

“Shoot me.”

Wooyoung jolted out of his sleep, the soft-spoken plea waking him abruptly. He sat up to check with San, but the tired doctor was fast asleep in his chair. Wooyoung swallowed and looked to Captain. It had sounded like his voice that had spoken, but no one else of the officers dozing around the room had noticed. Perhaps it had been in his head. 

He settled back, unsure if he could fall back into the peaceful rhythm of sleep now. A groan from the otherwise still body of Hongjoong captured his attention, and he peered over at the patient to discover his eyes wide open and fixed on the ceiling. Wooyoung’s heart jumped in surprise. 

“Shoot me.”

The words were distinctly his, Wooyoung observed, following the movement of his mouth before lips pressed tightly together into a hard line. “Captain...?” His hesitant venture was lost on Hongjoong’s ears. The captain was delirious. Nervous now, Wooyoung stood and leant closer, trying to catch the older boy’s attention. He wanted to say more, but his mouth had seemingly gone dry. Hongjoong was completely unaware and muttered another “Shoot me. Please.”

Deeply disturbed by what he was witnessing, the stricken gunner leaned over the bed and grabbed hold of San’s arm, shaking him awake. “What...? Oh!” The doctor picked up on what was happening much faster than Wooyoung had, and rose to try to bring Hongjoong out of it. “Captain, can you hear me?” “Please, I just want to go. I just want to be found already... let me leave!” His cries were growing in volume, and soon other officers were stirring from their slumber. Wooyoung looked on with a furrowed brow, trying to make sense of Hongjoong’s increasingly pitiful requests. 

He was becoming agitated, strength enough to twist up his sheets granted to his limbs in the haze of delirium. “Come on,” San was shaking him, nothing else to be done. “Just wake up, it’s not real!” “Someone end it, I’m-I’m begging... No! That’s an order, I’m ordering! Someone...someone shoot.” His stuttering trailed off, and Wooyoung turned the words over in his mind. “I just want to be found. Can’t you see?” These words escaped with perfect clarity and Wooyoung latched on to them. 

He wants to be found? He began to think back to what he knew of Hongjoong’s past. “He thinks he’s on the abandoned island again,” Mingi supplied, joining them at the bedside. “I just want to leave this place...” Hongjoong had grown exhausted again, fighting San along with the demons in his mind. His last entreaty left his lips almost too soft to hear. “Take me home.” 

“You are home,” Seonghwa had joined them. Wooyoung saw wetness on his face and averted his eyes. Hongjoong went quiet again, and the attention in the room was inadvertently cast on San, who busied his fingers with the bedding and avoided the eyes. “It’s not an improvement,” he finally said. “But it’s not the final stage yet.”

This was no comfort, but it sent the other officers to their beds in resignation. San paused over Hongjoong’s top blanket, clenching it in his hands before smoothing it out and returning to his chair. Wooyoung could read frustration in the lines of his face. He wanted to say something, but again gazed elsewhere before returning to the floor. He didn’t sleep.

...

Hongjoong slept all the next day. A mutinous goon delivered some food around midday, but apart from that there was nothing to be done but sit around the card table, playing mindlessly.

Yunho volunteered to swap out with San in keeping an eye on his patient, and when San sank into a chair at the table during the whist game, Wooyoung felt his hopes sink with him. “He’s almost gone,” San whispered unbidden. Jongho sat back in his chair like he had been struck across the face. Wooyoung was distinctly and unexpectedly aware of how young Jongho was to be in this situation. “The medicine’s not working?” He asked quietly for clarification. San wouldn’t meet his eyes. “He should have shown improvement by now…”

“He’s stopped breathing!” Yunho suddenly screamed from the other side of the room. Everyone was there instantly. “How long?” San was reaching for a pulse. “Just now, I swear,” Yunho stumbled over his words. “I was watching him like you told me but he just—“ “Stand back!” San didn’t have time to hear the full explanation as he turned he motionless body over and began pounding on his back. “Someone grab me the bellows!” He yelled and it was placed in his hand by Yeosang a moment later. “What are you doing?” The navigator asked, disturbed at how pale Hongjoong was. San positioned the nozzle in his mouth and began squeezing air in. “Giving him breath.”

It went on for a full minute before San threw the bellows to the side and in desperation gave Hongjoong a strong slap across the face. This final attempt to revive him was successful. Gasping and fighting for air, Hongjoong’s eyes flew open. There was a collective current of alleviation and San collapsed back into his chair. Needing to resuscitate himself after the experience, Wooyoung opened the back windows and took deep gulps of the sea air. He realised his legs were shaking and leaned on the windowsill. Captain just died. He died and came back. Yunho grasped Hongjoong’s hand and held it in between his. “Please don’t leave us again, hyung.”

Seonghwa’s hand was on San’s shoulder. “That was brilliant.”

“Too close. That was entirely too close.”

No one budged for the rest of the evening, terrified that doing so would send their captain back into respiratory arrest. San noted after the sun went down that his breathing had actually improved significantly, and began to allow a spark of faith that he would survive to grow inside. “The stuff I gave him was made after an epidemic of a disease quite similar to gaol fever,” he told the others to pass the time. “I think it may be kicking in.”

On their third day of imprisoned sailing Hongjoong came to. It was as if he had needed to hit rock bottom before surfacing. Mingi watched his eyelids twitch and struggle before sliding open, revealing eyes that were finally focused and aware of their surroundings. The officers didn’t need to be called over to see their captain was conscious, having heard the sound of his voice croak a timid, “Mingi?”

“Yessir?” Mingi responded, happy tears streaming down his face. 

“How sweet,” came a sarcastic voice from the doorway. All turned to see Seunghyun, who had been absent since the mutiny. His mouth formed a sneer. “It’s still too late for you, sir. We’ve arrived.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Haha take a shot every time Wooyoung doesn’t sleep! Feeeeeeel the feeeeeeeeels ppl! Fun fact: The beginning was a reference to Wave mv filming behind the scenes when Hongjoong claimed he wasn’t hot in that jacket xD I’ve had a lovely week sailing, poking around at the beach and basically having a refresher course in the minutæ of sea living and piracy which will be incredibly useful for the accurate production of this series :) and is of course also of great personal interest. Mum bought me a nautical curiosities book to gobble up :P so I’ll go read that now and then hopefully wake up to some kudos n comments tomorrow... P.S. if there are questions about the disease feel free to ask me because we won’t really go further into that in the series proper, there’s just too much ground to cover!


	3. The Fortress

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> None of them knew a thing about this overlord character but if he was as manipulative as he seemed, it was in their best interests to tread carefully. “Do as he says if it keeps anyone from being hurt,” Seonghwa grabbed Hongjoong’s face and turned it to him for his full attention. “And that includes you.”

Hongjoong was accustomed to the feeling of all eyes on him. But something about this moment he had awoken into created a suffocating tension. Mingi was staring at him with a look in his eyes that, frankly, scared him. He thought back to the fleeting moments of consciousness buried between dark memory holes. He remembered feeling acute pain, being found out, San’s diagnosis, the mutiny— mutiny! 

“It’s too late for you, sir. We’ve arrived.” 

Jongho took a flying leap at the man, raising his fist to pummel him senseless, but was interrupted by the nozzle of the gun being placed against his forehead. Seonghwa gripped his arm and pulled him back as Seunghyun advanced into the room, that disgusting smile still smeared onto his face. “Still resisting?” 

Hongjoong jumped at the sudden crack of Seunghyun’s gun firing. He had shot a bullet right next to Jongho’s boot, forcing him to take another step back. “The next one’s going in you,” his smile hardened and he raised his free hand, signalling more of his men to restrain the prisoners. “Walk them down the gangway and wait for my orders.”

Hongjoong didn’t have enough strength in him to resist, and was dragged out of his cabin with the rest, a delighted Seunghyun smiling down at him. “And with you removed, all the rats have finally been exterminated from the ATEEZ,” Hongjoong had enough fight in him to spit at the mutineer’s feet. He ignored it. “Oh, that reminds me. What shall we rename her, boys? She’s adorable with those colourful sail patches! To think people actually shrink in fear from this sailing circus.”

Each insult stoked the growing fire in Wooyoung to the point that only the pistol still trained on Jongho’s back kept him at bay. The officers were walked down to the dock that their own ship had been tethered to. The land sprawled out a surprising distance, so far that Wooyoung could barely see the edge of it and wondered distantly if they had landed on a continent and not an island. From the ease with which the mutineers parked and unloaded her cargo he had a feeling they had not simply happened upon this land. This had been planned from the beginning. 

“Where is everyone?” Mingi whispered to him. He had pulled up alongside Wooyoung in the march up the dock to dry land and chanced a look at their surroundings. “Don’t know...” The quartermaster’s observation added to the ball growing in his stomach. Something was definitely wrong here. “Look!” Seonghwa hissed from the front of the line.

A small crowd of young looking individuals had rounded the corner of the nearest street and congregated in what looked like the centre of town. Wooyoung felt the haunted eyes of one who spied him from afar pierce into his own and send a chill through him. Seonghwa had caught this exchange, too. “They’re—“ He was interrupted by the clamping of iron over his own hands. As he looked down and the tight metal restraints he finished his sentence. “Slaves.”

“And so are you! After the Master meets you,” Seunghyun informed him nonchalantly, still dragging a struggling Hongjoong behind him. The others were all overcome and handcuffed simultaneously before they were led up through the town. “And the trek for the Fortress begins.” 

...

It was an uphill climb, and Wooyoung’s calves were soon burning from exertion. He did his best to memorise what he saw, committing each turn and landmark to his mind, but the sun was beating down and the road was long. They appeared to be working their way up to some kind of armed fortress. It was the pinnacle of the coastal town they had landed at and stood above it like a steadfast guard... or a controlling owner.

“I know we’re in mortal danger still, but... I’m so relieved Hongjoong hyung is alive,” San panted quietly from beside him. His thoughts were still back on the ship. “Amputating limbs and treating stab wounds are my strength— deadly sickness is not. There were times if I’m honest when I thought he was doomed to die.” Wooyoung was trying to forget what he’d seen in the captain’s cabin the past few days, but bumped his shoulder against San’s softly in a gesture of encouragement. “And he did... but you brought him back.” They approached the portcullis of the immense fortress complex and were drawn to a halt. Seunghyun and Hongjoong were still at the front of the line, the latter in no condition to be hiking and clearly depleted of any strength he had gathered overnight. 

“Welcome to The Fortress, boys.” A cheer broke out from the mutineers who didn’t seem the least bit winded from the journey up. The captive pirates watched them applaud in confusion. “I know it’s a lot to take in but... it’s your home now! And you’d best get used to it. The town is just for looks, this is where the real magic happens. And once I show you to the Master you can all be a part of it, too!” Yeosang leaned over to Jongho and mumbled, “He’s completely demented.” “Bonkers,” the youngest whispered back. “In we go then!” Seunghyun was clearly excited to be “home” and signalled the inside guards to raise the portcullis.

The officers were herded up three flights of stairs and deep into the interior of the Fortress. Wooyoung squinted in the lowlight as his eyes adjusted. Suddenly the restraints were off and they were facing a wall of iron bars. “Here you stay for the time being!” Seunghyun leaned against the bars conversationally while locking the cell one-handed. “If you’re lucky, some of you might end up in a nice home.” “Some of you?” San hissed once Seunghyun and his men had strolled out of earshot. “They mean to separate us!” He flopped down in the dust and glared at the less than spacious surroundings.

“Our new home is... a prison cell,” Wooyoung observed, sitting next to him. “Of course.” Yunho was pulling on all of the bars to try and locate a loose one. “But at least we’re all in one cell together at the moment. That makes it easier to escape.” The officers all found seats on the floor, their new reality weighing on them. “There has to be a way out,” Mingi insisted, walking the perimeter of their cell and noting every detail. Soon there was nothing to do but sit and wait.

“Wooyoung, here,” Hongjoong grunted from the exertion as he lifted the chain of his necklace over his head and placed it into the gunner’s hand. “Take this and protect it.” Wooyoung was stunned at this sudden responsibility. “But...why me?” Hongjoong’s eyes flitted over to his. “You’ll do as I ask, won’t you?” Wooyoung wasn’t sure if this was the answer to his question or further instruction from his captain. “Of course.” Hongjoong nodded and let his eyes close. “Don’t give it to any of them. No matter what.”

Captain was falling asleep where he sat, so Yeosang took hold of his shoulders and gently guided his head down to his own lap. It was a softer place for it than the uneven stone floor. Yeosang watched Wooyoung put the crystal around his own neck and tuck it under his shirt. The only time Wooyoung remembered seeing it was the morning they had docked at Maddox’s Island and it had lay helplessly in front of him for a moment. “What is so important about this crystal anyway?” he wondered aloud. “I think it’s connected to Eden’s treasure,” Yeosang noted softly. “Like some kind of key.”

Jongho had joined Yunho at the bars, placed his hands on two of them and pulled with all his might in opposite directions. “Worth a try.” “How about the floor?” Seonghwa suggested. “Are any of these stones moveable?” “Already discussing how to break out I see!” Someone had snuck up on them. The officers snapped to attention as a new figure came before them and entered the cell with three other men, locking himself in. 

“You’re the Master?” Mingi growled.  
The man simply nodded, small beady eyes surveying the boys before him. “Let us out before you regret it,” Mingi continued, standing tall and looking down his nose at the man. “You’ll come to see it my way eventually,” the Master replied, monotonous and unintimidated. Two of the guardsmen who had entered with him pulled Mingi’s arms behind him and forced him to sit with the rest. “Now, the Captain.” The Master turned his stoic face to Hongjoong and signalled the guard to bring him forward. “You, you have quite the reputation.” 

“It precedes me,” Hongjoong grunted back, trying to get his feet under him. “And I haven’t the faintest who you are.” The Master snickered to himself at this. “No matter. You have an infamous and able bodied crew of officers with you. All of them will be of use for us, but I need something from you.” Hongjoong was confused. “You mean you’re buying us yourself?” The Master shrugged and crossed his arms. “Technically, no. When we have what we need, we’ll sell you off as well.” It was Hongjoong’s turn to chuckle. “As if I’ll allow anyone to be auctioned off like an animal on my watch.”

“I think you overestimate your control over the situation, boy.” The Master summoned two of the henchman back to him. “When I can just do this—“ he nodded and one of the men gave a forceful kick to Hongjoong’s midsection. “—and they’ll fall right into line.” Hongjoong struggled to stand again, spurred on by the shouts of his officers behind him, and looked the Master square in the eye. “Think again.”

The stocky slave trader pinched his nose in annoyance and brushed his hand through the air as if he was swatting away a fly, the signal for the guardsmen to continue their intimidation tactic. Hongjoong got back up again, a purple patch growing on his face. “I thought you knew who I am,” he interjected. “This is all you’ve got?” He was punched back down again without the honour of a response from the Master who watched, unimpressed, from the front of the cell. 

An anxious ball was growing inside Wooyoung as the beating grew in intensity, one man holding Hongjoong’s arms behind him. They weren’t looking to stop any time soon, and San’s laboured breathing from behind him warned that they were pummelling him dangerously close to an inch of his life. Seonghwa had started chewing on his lip. There was no indication that this would end well for any of them, and everyone’s cries were going unheeded.

“Well, Hongjoong.”

“That’s Captain Hongjoong,” he spit between gasps for air.

“Right, right!” His lips upturned. “Captain! Are you quite tired of being beaten? Perhaps your crew will speak up for you.” As each punch landed, Wooyoung’s fingers inched closer to the crystal necklace, ready to reveal it. Yeosang’s hand landed on his. “Trust him, Wooyoung.”

“If you’re really going to be stubborn we might have to start killing them, I’m afraid,” with a less than heartfelt frown and a raised gun, the Master turned to the huddled officers.

“You said you wouldn’t,” Hongjoong was bursting out of the guard’s arms, struggling to get to his men. “You said you needed them alive! Stop!” The Master scoffed and corrected him. “One or two lives spent to win your cooperation are hardly important.” The gun clicked as it was positioned in Jongho’s face.

“No, don’t do that! I’ll help you, alright! I’ll help! You have my word!”

“Your word means nothing, you’re a pirate.” He suddenly leapt at the other officers, snatching Yeosang away from them. “How about we keep this one as leverage instead? Much safer than a pirate’s word. And then why don’t we take a little walk?”

With that, the Master and his men exited the cell, dragging Yeosang and Hongjoong with them. Yunho released a scream of frustration and kicked the bars closest to him with all his might. “They couldn’t give us five minutes alone together to plan an escape, could they?” Wooyoung swallowed and fingered the crystal through the loose fabric of his shirt. “What will they do when they discover he doesn’t have it?” He tilted his head back and groaned. Hanging onto the crystal key was probably only making the situation worse.

San had gotten up to keep a lookout in the hallway, but reminded Wooyoung over his shoulder, “He knows what to do.” “And this is the right thing to do?” Wooyoung muttered in disbelief. “Let’s focus on working out how to break out of here,” Seonghwa instructed, sending a pointed look to Jongho who was silently fuming in the back corner.

They were no further in their escape plan when San whispered, “They’re coming!” and all the officers shuffled back in line. Wooyoung could finally see his Captain’s face, and instantly filled with shame at the sight. He winced as the sound of fist hitting flesh filled his memory. 

Yeosang wasn’t with them, and Hongjoong gave an explanation as soon as he was dropped off unceremoniously and the guards had walked away. “They took him to another cell of some kind I think. He’s keeping him there until my work is satisfactory,” Hongjoong sighed, pausing over the last word. “But he doesn’t know anything about the treasure, and I suggest we keep it that way.” Here he looked pointedly at Wooyoung out of a bruised eye. 

Wooyoung sat back, but his muscles were still tensely coiled. “That was... frighteningly close,” he admitted. “I almost revealed it... I-I’m sorry.” It did nothing to help him to confess this to Hongjoong, but it weighed heavily now. As heavy as the crystal hanging around his neck and Yeosang’s retreating back as he was marched away. Hongjoong glanced at him and then back to the floor. “Prove me right, Wooyoung. That my trust is well founded.” He suspected Hongjoong was simply too tired to deal with him, but nodded solemnly in agreement. He’d keep that crystal safe. Just as Yeosang told him to. 

“What kind of work do they want you doing if it has nothing to do with the treasure?” Mingi asked quietly, afraid of upsetting the captain. Hongjoong simply shook his head. “He wasn’t lying when he said he knew about me. He wants me building ships for him.” 

“Ships!” Jongho was taken aback. “What does a slave trader need ships for?” “Expanding his business...” Wooyoung realised out loud. Mingi was shaking his head. “There’s got to be some way we can cut a corner and get out of here.” Seonghwa thought through all the options. “What has he given you to work with?” “Nothing yet. But I can—“ Hongjoong interrupted himself to cough. “I can ask for tools. He might allow them. If I can smuggle some back here, we can use them to get out.”

Soon a plan was underway with backup ideas formulated for later. Wooyoung noticed San was zoned out and placed a hand on his shoulder. San suddenly turned to face him. “You were worried about him,” It dawned on Wooyoung. “Captain.” San tried to laugh. “Wasn’t everyone?” An uncomfortable silence fell before he continued. “He’s taken many beatings before but this... it’s too soon after the illness. It could go very badly very quickly.” Wooyoung thought for a moment where they would be if Captain hadn’t been revived. He shivered and tried to think on something else. “If he cooperates maybe this ‘Master’ will go easier on him,” Wooyoung tried to help San see the possibilities. “Buying enough time to get us all out of here.”

None of them knew a thing about this overlord character but if he was as manipulative as he seemed, it was in their best interests to tread carefully. “Do as he says if it keeps anyone from being hurt,” Seonghwa grabbed Hongjoong’s face and turned it to him for his full attention. “And that includes you.” 

“Do we have an accord?” The Master had arrived to collect his answer. Hongjoong scanned the faces of his friends and turned to their captor. “We do.”

...

Yeosang squirmed and struggled the entire walk down the hall. At some point he and the guard holding him had separated from the Master and Hongjoong. His guard’s hands were rough and impatient, pushing him along to a large, almost empty, room and locking the door behind them. A tall glass box stretched from the floor almost to the ceiling, with just enough room for a human to stand inside. Yeosang’s stomach hit the floor as he realised that was where he was going.

The guard locked him in and left without another word. The walls were a perfectly transparent glass, but so close and tight that Yeosang felt as if they were shrinking in on him. Here he was alone, again. Waiting for someone to come along and get him out. He studied the lock on the side of the box that functioned as the door before giving up and sliding to the bottom. Yeosang stared at the stone wall across for him for a few moments, not really looking. His thoughts were all muddled together. Things were happening one after the other, each day bringing a more dire problem. 

It dawned on him that the wall across from him was not actually a wall but a curtain, massive and as black as the rest of the room he was enclosed in. As he squinted at it a thought emerged from the back of his mind. That was an unusual place for a curtain. If an audience was sitting on the other side when it was raised, all they would see was a person in a box. A glass box with a human trapped inside. Yeosang shot to his feet in realisation.

He was going to be sold.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please tell me you recognise the glass box ppl xD One of my shorter chaps, I know, but still hopefully advances the plot here. Send kudos if you found it to be satisfactory ;)


	4. Glass Boxes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There was a new sound coming from behind the curtain. Yeosang awoke from his restless sleep and stood facing it. Casually chatting voices were wafting to him from the other side. It sounded like the gathering of an audience. Yeosang’s heart began to pound. So this was it.

It was all Hongjoong could do to keep from slamming his head into the wall. Because he had insisted on being stubborn, Yeosang was imprisoned somewhere else, all alone, with no idea what the plan of escape was, or if anyone was coming for him... He took rabbit holes in his mind down every possible outcome of the earlier episode and dwelt on the ones where Yeosang wasn’t dragged away as leverage.

The Master had left them in their cell for the day and into the night, which allowed them to create more backup plans and, once that was done, sit around soaking in their rage at him. It was another long night on a hard surface, and Hongjoong found himself staring into the dark, lost in thought for most of it. Seonghwa lay facing his back and took in every small shift and grunt, indications that the captain was feeling the effects of his beating earlier. Eventually he too wandered into abstract thought and drifted off to sleep.

Wooyoung got a few hours, which was more than usual, after a long day of watching and waiting from behind prison bars. His brain was catching up to him, still dizzy from being on land, hiking to the Fortress, and panicking over their situation. He grudgingly imagined Yeosang sleeping somewhere else, on the cold ground by himself instead of huddled up with his friends like he should be.

“We should sleep like this every night,” San whispered into the dark, directing his voice at the figure curled up next to him. He wasn’t entirely sure who it was. “No we shouldn’t.” It was Jongho. “I could break your nose if I have a nightmare.” San clicked his tongue at him and whispered back, “You wouldn’t dare.” It took ages to get even marginally comfortable, but for a moment each member was suspended in their dreams, free of their prison cell for an hour or two, and capable of anything they wished.

...

Yeosang’s biological clock woke him at the crack of dawn, and he sat thinking about where the sun was rising, and which side would be letting in light if a window existed in his dreary cage. The creak of the door opening turned him around and he watched a single guard enter the room and lock himself in. “What do you want with me?” Yeosang yelled, unsure if his glass box would allow the sound to escape. 

If he heard him, the man showed no sign and advanced purposefully to the box. Yeosang spotted a small tray in his hand with food on it. The man opened the door of the glass cage one handed and left the food at Yeosang’s feet before locking it up again. The two met eyes and glared at each other until Yeosang bent down to pick up the food tray.  
When he stood up, the guard held up two fingers and pointed at the tray in the prisoner’s hands before spinning on his heel and exiting. The jangling of the keys as they bounced against his leg echoed with each step away, fainter and fainter until they ceased.

Two meals? Is that what he was saying? Yeosang examined the mush on the tray in his hands. Supposedly it was safe to eat. The Master wouldn’t poison someone he was trying to sell. It didn’t smell very appetising but there wasn’t anywhere he could put it in the skinny, confining box that was far enough away. He picked up the fork and pushed it around before trying it. It wasn’t Seonghwa’s cooking but it was edible. As he pulled the fork out of his mouth, he had a revelation. Yeosang stared at the metal prongs in delight. He had just been given a weapon.

...

Wooyoung awoke to San’s stomach growling, which brought his attention to the pain in his own stomach. Carefully, so as not to disturb the others, he wiggled out of the sleeping pile and sat up. The world continued to spin, more than before. He blinked. Reaching for the crystal under his shirt, he looked down at it and then over to Captain. Only his back was visible, and Wooyoung couldn’t tell in the low light whether he was asleep or not. Heat began to creep up his neck as the pieces fell into place. 

“San...San! San!” He shook the boy awake, a grimace on his face. “Wha..?” “The necklace! The disease!” San rubbed his eyes. Wooyoung wasn’t making any sense. “What about it?” The gunner was trying to keep the volume at a hushed whisper but became frantic. “Captain was wearing this necklace the entire time he was sick, San!” Wooyoung took him by the shoulders in a panic. “And now I’m feeling dizzy and my face is hot—“ He grabbed San’s hand and pressed it to his forehead. “It’s so hot, San! I’m feverish! What do we do—“ 

San twisted his hand out of Wooyoung’s grasp and moved it to cover his rapidly firing mouth. “Shh! It’s going to be alright!” As he said this, all the colour was draining from his face. Tears pricked the edges of Wooyoung’s eyes. “We’re in a dungeon. What do we do?” He whispered when San’s hand finally dropped. “I’ll take care of this, understand?” The surgeon’s face was set in stone. “We caught it early this time, and I know how to handle the symptoms.” Wooyoung’s mouth had gone dry. “Promise?” He implored weakly. San smiled and nodded as he began to lie back down. “Promise.”

“Wait—“ Wooyoung pulled San back up to face him. “Don’t tell anyone.” For a moment San looked confused, but a fleeting glimpse at the back of their Captain and he was nodding in agreement. “I may need to eventually, but—“ “Not Captain.” Wooyoung’s tone left no room for argument. “Not Captain,” San sighed. “For as long as I can hold him.” Again he lay down, arms behind his head, and tried not to watch Wooyoung too intently. The two of them rested in silence until the others woke. It was a lot to ask of San, and Wooyoung knew it, but fatigue was creeping over him at a frightening speed and he was most terrified at how difficult it would be to hide it.

... 

There were two locked doors and a portcullis between Yeosang and freedom. He had the element of surprise and a fork. It wasn’t ideal, but it was enough for a distraction. Yeosang thought back to the guard’s sign language earlier. If he was coming back with a second meal that could be his chance to escape. But he would need to snag the keyring attached to his belt.

He walked himself through the hallway mentally, back to the others in their prison cell. It wouldn’t make sense to escape on his own and then leave the rest of them there. Yeosang couldn’t deny that they were resourceful and likely already had a plan in motion, but bringing the keys to them and letting them out would certainly do the trick a lot faster. A tiny smirk cracked on his face at the thought of Wooyoung’s face when would see his friend return after being dragged away unceremoniously and unlock the cell by himself.

Yeosang’s attention returned to his suffocating prison. It looked so much like a display case he had been certain he would be sold that morning but so far the guard attending him had shown no indication that he’d be auctioned off any time soon. Part of him was relieved, because it gave him time to get away while he was still in the general vicinity of his friends, but another part of him was almost impatient. He hated his tiny glass castle with a passion— it made his blood boil thinking just about it. If he had to stay in there much longer he knew it would drive him mad.

He shook those thoughts out of his head. Soon, the guard would return. Soon, he’d make his bid for freedom. 

...

At what would have been the beginning of the forenoon watch a pair of guards came to deliver an unappetising meal and collect Hongjoong for his shipbuilding work. Wooyoung allowed himself to breathe a shaky sigh in his absence, but the moment he was gone the questioning began. “Everything alright, Wooyoung?” Seonghwa asked, barely thirty seconds after Hongjoong had gone. “Fine,” Wooyoung croaked back. “You look a bit flushed,” Seonghwa remarked casually but the intensity of his stare said otherwise. Wooyoung didn’t have a response for this so San stepped in. “It’s awfully stuffy in here.” The eldest was watching them like a hawk and didn’t relent for a moment while he pointed out, “It was hotter yesterday. I think there was rain overnight. Sure you’re not coming down with something?” Again he directed his question to Wooyoung who let San cover for him. “Oh, unlikely! We’ve been in here less than 24 hours, that’s not enough time to contract any—“

“San, don’t insult my intelligence.” Seonghwa rolled his eyes and pushed past him to take Wooyoung’s temperature with the back of his hand. With a yelp of surprise it came flying back as if he had been stung. “Wooyoung! What—“ San jumped in between them and shushed him but it was too late. The other three looked up from their conversation and caught on immediately. “Everything alright over there?” Mingi raised his eyebrows. “It’s Wooyoung,” Seonghwa was still staring at him in dismay. “He’s got the sickness.”

...

Hongjoong had expected to be marched out to the wharf and handed some timber and maybe a hammer but instead he was climbing stairs. Lots and lots of stairs. There was a shooting pain in his midsection but he ignored it as his legs were working just fine. He took the time he had on the stairs to clear his mind. The Master had been clear on their walk yesterday that Yeosang would not be released unless he cooperated. But as it seemed unlikely that Yeosang would be released at all, he was going to have to try to find him on his own. 

The stairs opened up into a corridor that was considerably less shabby than the dungeon hallway, and Hongjoong sucked in his breath as he stepped onto a marble floor. The ceilings on this level of the Fortress were high and vaulted, sculptures lined the walls and a massive, carpeted imperial staircase was poised at the end with a balcony overlooking it. Hongjoong swallowed. So the Master’s rich.

“What do you think, boy?” The Master called from the balcony. Hongjoong frowned. “Don’t call me that,” he yelled back, avoiding the topic of the mansion. He stayed as stoic as he could. Fire in his eyes, but his face was plain and unreadable. “This way,” The Master beckoned him up the left side, ignoring Hongjoong’s insolence. To his surprise, the captain was released by the guards who had delivered him. They retreated back down the hall and left him to his own devices. Without a layout of the mansion or a weapon to dispatch the Master with, he had no choice but to comply. 

“I’d like you to meet someone.” Hongjoong followed the man into another room, even grander than the last. The floor was of the finest polished wood and perfectly spotless. It was a ballroom. Hongjoong scanned the gilded ceilings and mirror walls. A sparkling chandelier caught the light in its crystal netting. He had to wonder what the purpose of such an ornate room was. “Beautiful, isn’t it?” The Master sighed from behind him. Hongjoong shook his head in disbelief. “It’s wasted on you.”

“But not on me!” A voice from the other side of the room startled Hongjoong. It was a woman, long hair tied up and a faint smile on her face. She was dressed elegantly, and it was difficult to guess her age. “This is who you wanted me to meet?” Hongjoong raised an eyebrow. “Hello, I’m—“ she stopped herself short and offered a smile instead. Hongjoong could see the Master shaking his head in warning at her out of the corner of his eye but didn’t have time to dwell on it. “His wife.” Hongjoong turned to face the Master, unsure what exactly he was playing at. “One of how many?” The Master looked appalled at the implication and walked over to his wife, standing behind her with his hands on her shoulders. “Just one, now if you’ll please let me do the talking! We’ll move into the sitting room.” 

Hongjoong unclenched his fist and followed them to the other end of the ballroom, but something caught his eye from the corner. “The pianoforte,” the woman’s voice lilted towards him with a note of amusement. He looked up at her in surprise. She had turned around and intercepted him. “Do you play?” She asked innocently. “I...well, n-not,” he stuttered for a moment before clearing his throat. “Not for several years, no.” The wife tilted her head, displaying a knowing smile, and asked, “Would you like to?” Hongjoong wanted so badly to refuse, to be as focused as possible on completing his task and rescuing the others, but there it sat, glistening at him with keys that begged to be played. Unknowingly, he took a step toward it and was blocked. The Master frowned at him and was about to close the lid of the instrument when the woman’s hand landed on his arm. The couple shared a glance and the Master returned to Hongjoong. “After your work for the day is finished, perhaps.” The “perhaps” was not a question but a command, and Hongjoong glared at him on his way to the sitting room.

“What we have for you today are these,” the Master got down to business once they were all seated on the cushy chairs positioned strategically around the room. He handed Hongjoong a handful of scrolls. “Diagrams?” “Ship models,” the wife explained. “If you’re going to build our fleet, you should build the best one you can.” The Master nodded and took back the diagrams, spreading them out across the table in between them. “Pick out the model that would be most useful in expanding our little enterprise and begin on the morrow.”

“About that,” Hongjoong sighed and looked up. “How are you expecting me to do this? Am I to build it by myself, with no equipment?” The Master stared at him in thought. “In a few days, if I find your work acceptable, I’ll assign you some of my men. As for tools, you are to be supervised when using them but again, I am trying to get this done by winter, I’ll not have you putting boards together barehanded for years.”

“‘If my work is acceptable?’ You said yesterday my satisfactory labour would release my navigator and now it’ll earn me a few of your slaves?” Hongjoong slammed his fist on the table. “No! I want Yeosang back! That is the priority, understand?” In an instant, the Master’s hands were around Hongjoong’s neck. He barely registered being pinned to the floor. Distantly, a woman was screaming. The Master’s voice was uncomfortably close to his ear, “No, it is not the priority! And if you raise another finger it will be off the table entirely. Now you listen here, I’ll tell you one more time only what is expected of you and if you do not act accordingly... I will not hesitate to kill your precious navigator. No questions asked.” 

The next thing Hongjoong knew he had been let up and returned to his seat. The Master and his wife were back in theirs, dusting themselves off as if nothing had happened. Hongjoong released a shaky breath and tried to say something, anything to defend himself and take control of the situation. The usual fire he snapped back with was snuffed out at the thought of Yeosang being murdered. Raspy from being choked, he simply responded, “Well, you’ll need something with a large cargo hold.”

...

Deflated, Wooyoung sunk back to the ground. He and San met eyes and frowned. That didn’t last long. Everyone was upon him asking questions and checking his temperature until San peeled them all away and explained briefly. “The crystal necklace Captain gave him... It must have spread the illness to him. The disease didn’t die with him as I thought and now there’s a high chance if any of you touch him you’ll contract it too so, please!” Yunho was spluttering in disbelief. “I was holding Captain’s hand, San! Why didn’t I catch the sickness too?” San was ready to tell him he was really only a carpenter and didn’t have all the answers but Mingi surprisingly cut him off. “No, it’s the necklace.” 

Everyone was still looking at him confused so he went on. “The disease died with Captain, you’re right. The crystal key has magical powers. I think it’s cursed, like the gold from the Smokey Island caves!” You could have heard a pin drop. “And where exactly did you get that information?” Jongho finally asked. Mingi avoided the accusing eyes. “I— Well, I might have overheard it but it’s not as if that’s private information, I mean—“ “So as long as we don’t touch the necklace, it’s safe?” Yunho cut right to the chase and, receiving a hesitant nod from San, rejoined Wooyoung and convinced him to lie back down. Seonghwa leaned against the wall like he’d been struck. “Hongjoong... he didn’t realise...” he trailed off, heart pounding in his ears. “He can’t learn of this.” “None of you were supposed to learn of this!” San shot back. Seonghwa had the decency to look ashamed. “He’s still going to know something is wrong when he returns,” Jongho pointed out. “Not if we work together to keep it from him,” Mingi sighed, reluctant to have to lie to his superior. “But there’s not much of a purpose if you can’t help him, San,” he said gently, hoping Wooyoung wouldn’t hear. “He helped Captain,” Jongho offered weakly, confronted with the image of a bellows in Wooyoung’s mouth. Mingi scratched the back of his head and dropped his voice further. “Captain was...a miracle.”

San said nothing but turned around and stalked back over to Wooyoung in a huff. When he was angry, he was near impossible to talk to and everyone knew it. Seonghwa groaned softly and wrapped his arms around himself as a chill trickled down his spine. Not even 24 hours in this place and they had another problem on their backs.

...

Just as before, a guard entered Yeosang’s room with a new tray of food to replace the old one. The prisoner was waiting in the corner of his box, facing the door, with the fork clutched in his hand behind him. He tried to calm his quivering limbs as the guard locked the door and approached the glass cage. He was unlocking it just as before, bending down to grab the empty food tray. Any moment now he would notice the missing fork. It was time.

With the guard bent over, hands full, Yeosang suddenly leapt on him and drove the fork with as much force as he could muster into the man’s neck. Once he collapsed, a screaming, bloody mess, Yeosang had about 10 seconds to unlock the second door and get into the hallway. He wrenched the keys out of the man’s fist and calmed own shaking hands. Thankfully, the first key on the ring was the one for his room, and the moment it clicked into place, Yeosang ripped the door open and bolted out. The guard tore off after him, an ugly wound displaying in his neck as he pulled the fork out, blood spilling out behind it.

Yeosang was sprinting at breakneck speed down the hallway, trying to find his way back to the others and at the same time worrying about whether the key to their cell was on this keyring, too. Heavy footsteps were picking up speed behind him, and in a fatal mistake, he turned his head and looked behind him.

“No, no!” He gasped as a bloody hand clamped around his ankle, sending him crashing to the floor. His forehead slammed against the stone and he could feel something wet on his hairline. “No, please!” He was screaming now as the hand pulled him back the way he had come. “Just let me go back to them!” He kicked with as much strength as he could muster but the guard’s grip was iron. Yeosang flipped over onto his back, a choice he instantly regretted as he continued to be dragged and the stone floor roughly slid underneath him.

“Let me go back to them, I won’t try to escape!” He begged with the guard, grabbing the inside of an archway and clinging to it. “Please just don’t put me back in the box!” Another pair of hands wrenched his arms away from the wall and lifted him from behind. Yeosang fought for his life, kicking and scratching the two guards the whole way back down the hall. “No, please! Don’t put me back!” His screams became sobs as the dark stage came into view, glass box shining in expectation. “Don’t put me—“ a fist entered his mouth, and while he tried to shred it with his teeth, he was dragged into the room. The second guard wrenched the keys away from the escapee while the first tossed him back into his glass prison, the momentum almost toppling the whole thing over as Yeosang slammed into the side. 

“No one can hear you now!” He snarled, snatching the keys from the other guard and locking the box before they both marched out. Yeosang didn’t move until long after the jangling keys had faded and the blood had trickled into his eyes, mixing with tears and dripping onto the glass floor. No one heard his cries.

... 

“And finally, you either need a strong material for your sails or you need plenty of scraps to patch them with,” Hongjoong passed his hand over his face and sighed. He’d been at it for hours, looking over the ship schematics and comparing them, pointing out every little thing that would be necessary for the fleet to consider. For a man who employed people that knew how to sail, the Master knew surprisingly little himself. His wife had been in and out all day, sometimes listening in on the plans, sometimes leaving to do whatever it was she did around this magnificent mansion. 

“You’ve sailed here from the West, would you recommend a specific type?” Hongjoong bit back a groan. “No, but if you’re planning on going that far you’ll need storm sails. I doubt any of your men are skilled enough—“ There was a strange sound from below him and Hongjoong almost forgot what he was saying. “—to outrun a squall in the doldrums.” As usual, he kept his confusion off his face as he tuned in again to the disturbance. It sounded like someone was screaming. 

The Master heard it too and stood slowly in bewilderment. Hongjoong was afraid he was going to do something sudden or start yelling again, but the woman’s reappearance in the doorway distracted him. “Are you finished in there, dear? It’s suppertime.” The Master turned around, features softening at the sight of his wife. “Yes, we’re done for now! Tomorrow, the real work commences.” He turned and jerked his head at Hongjoong, who followed them back into the ballroom, unable to keep from casting a forlorn glance at the piano. “Oh, that’s right!” The wife clasped her hands together in some form of excitement. “Do play for us!” 

Hongjoong’s eyes slid over to the Master’s to check his face for disapproval, and seeing nothing, he walked over to the instrument. He couldn’t help but run a hand over the smooth exterior before seating himself carefully on the bench and resting his eyes on the keys. As he thought very far back to his days of society, tunes filled his head and he shuffled through, wanting to pick the perfect one. There it was again, the yelling sound. Someone was screaming “Don’t put me back!” Hongjoong was sure of it. He gulped back his questions and positioned his hands to play. The song chose itself, and soon everything melted away around him.

As he played, a guard marched into the room, a bloody hand clutching a wound on his neck. He whispered something into the Master’s ear and they disappeared. But Hongjoong didn’t notice. It was just him and the music.

...

All six imprisoned members were pressed against the bars of their cell, straining to see down the hall. Even Wooyoung was there, supported by Yunho. “It’s Yeosang, I’m sure of it!” Seonghwa tried to angle his head to catch a glimpse of the struggle they could hear from the other end of the corridor.

They heard a “no please!” and a “just let me go back to them!” before the scuffle moved further away and the voice faded until it was silenced. “W-What do you think they’re doing to him?” San’s eyes were large and brimming as he slowly sunk to the floor. “Did he do something wrong?” Jongho pulled on the bars again, well aware that they wouldn’t budge for him. “It’s that sick slave trader! He’s having him beaten for no reason!” Mingi’s head dropped into his hands. “Captain had better finish up quickly so Yeosang will be returned to us,” he moaned. Seonghwa gave up his watch at the bars and sat on his usual spot on the floor. “What good will it do if we’re all still stuck in here, waiting to be sold off?” He had meant to gripe only to himself but the others had heard and sobered.

“We’re no closer to a solution for Wooyoung,” Seonghwa sighed when they fell silent and looked to him. “I hate to say it, but don’t you think Hongjoong would be able to pinch some medicine while he’s stealing tools for our escape?” San glared at him from next to the bars. “That would mean letting him in, and that’s out of the question. Wooyoung has time, I may be able to avert the course of the disease.” He turned back to the hallway, eyes widening. “He’s back! Act natural, everyone.” San was the only one who moved into another position, the others just tried to look no more depressed then they were when their leader left them in the morning. 

“Have you been fed?” Hongjoong asked after the guards who had returned him were gone. Everyone simply nodded. Jongho scooted closer to the captain. “Why haven’t they returned Yeosang to us yet? If your work today was satisfactory shouldn’t they take it as upholding our end of the accord?” Hongjoong’s eyes closed in a tinge of guilt. “I specifically asked him to release Yeosang and he refused. He needs more work than what he got today, and he threatened to kill him if I ask again.” Yunho inhaled sharply. “He’s mad! How much longer will it take?” 

“I’m guessing a day or two to prove myself. And he’s only allowing tools if I’m supervised. It’s going to be difficult.” Everyone kept their thoughts to themselves for awhile, shuffling around until they were semi comfortable. Wooyoung tried ardently to remain conscious. “How did the rest of you pass the time?” Hongjoong asked casually, trying to shift the atmosphere. Mingi let out a dark chuckle. “What can we do? Plan some more, play a few games, try to eat this disgusting slop.” He leaned forward and looked cynically at the captain. “Don’t you think the longer you work for this man, the less likely it is Yeosang will be released? I mean, he’s probably banking on the fact that you’ll forget about him.” Hongjoong was preparing a response when Wooyoung whispered from the floor, “Can we please not talk about Yeosang?” Both Hongjoong and Mingi wanted to delve deeper into the issue, but they understood Wooyoung’s distress. There was an uncomfortable quiet, and Wooyoung’s heavy breathing roared in his ears. 

“Let’s get some sleep,” Hongjoong finally said, lying down and staring at the ceiling.

...

Yeosang had been mistaken, thinking he had nothing but bleak walls for company. A tiny spider sat on its web at the top of his hollow prism. Yeosang looked up at it as hours slipped through his fingers and missed his usual view. His whole life revolved around the stars, even in the daytime he looked up at the sky out of habit. Now all he had was this dark, stuffy prison view. He was missing sun, waves, even the feast of colour that was a grassy meadow from back home.

Yeosang thought back to his first day as an officer aboard the ATEEZ. He had doubted himself and admitted to Hongjoong he wasn’t sure if he should have come. Hongjoong smiled at him confidently and said, “Do you know what I like about wind? It’s always just passing through. When it comes to you, if you don’t like where you are, you can ask politely and it might let you follow it.”

Yeosang looked at the door. It was tall and ominous, at any moment it could open for some new torture. He so desperately wanted it to open for a friendly breeze to take him with it. Anywhere was better than this cold, lifeless box. The door did open, but only a fuming Master emerged from it.

“I hear someone’s been naughty,” he growled, dragging Yeosang out of his confinement and into the room. The boy shook his head, two men mixing together into one as his vision cleared. The Master took the motion as an act of defiance and kicked Yeosang in the gut, sharply. “Our buyers won’t be able to see that one.” Yeosang coughed and writhed around, trying to regain his breath. “And speaking of them, you’ve been moved up the schedule to be sold tomorrow. If you want to be trouble, you can be trouble for someone else.” Without a second glance, the Master threw the boy back in his quarters and left.

Again the jangling keys faded, and Yeosang was alone in his coffin.

...

In the darkest hour of the night, two pairs of eyes blinked open simultaneously. Wooyoung’s out of the haze of a fever dream, and Hongjoong’s out of nagging anxiety over Yeosang.

Wooyoung’s mumbles penetrated the gathering gloom and caught the captain’s attention. He sat up slowly and made his way over to the gunner. He was tightly secured between Yunho’s arms, but fidgeted uneasily. His squirming was growing to the point that Hongjoong decided to gently remove Yunho’s arms and tried to shake Wooyoung awake. “What’s going on? Are you sick?” His voice was so hushed Yunho didn’t hear it and kept on snoring. “Wooyoung?” Hongjoong repeated before placing a hand on his forehead. The heat radiating from his body was eerily familiar. The captain thought back to the day that felt like ages ago when his own forehead had been blazing hot. It was the sickness.

Hongjoong tiptoed over the sleeping bodies until he found San’s. “San, San! Wooyoung is sick!” San’s breath caught in his throat as he woke to realise they had been discovered. His reaction was just a hair too quick and Hongjoong could tell something was off. He backed away a few inches in shock. “You knew?” San began to shush him, placating hands grasping the captain’s collar. “I’m sorry, hyung, but telling you wouldn’t have helped anything, we had to keep it—“ “All of you knew?” Hongjoong scanned the sleeping bodies again, breaths coming out short and quick. “He got it from me, didn’t he? That’s why you wouldn’t tell me!” San was shaking his head, not in denial but in apology. “There’s nothing we can do for him in here! We spent all day trying to come up with something. Seonghwa wanted to tell you so that you could get some medicine or something but, I mean, how are you supposed to find medicine in a shipyard and what if you feet really guilty about giving him the necklace and spreading it and you’re already busy worrying about Yeosang...” 

San didn’t register the wetness on his face until Hongjoong was wiping it off. “I’m going to the Master’s mansion again tomorrow morning. I’ll try to find something there. Oh, I wish you’d told me, San.” San was still shaking his head but now there weren’t any words coming out. He let Hongjoong rub his shoulders for a moment before laying back down and squeezing his eyes shut. The captain sighed and returned to the feverish Wooyoung. He lay on the opposite side to Yunho, facing the sick boy and monitoring him carefully. “Can you hear me, Wooyoung?” He asked, fixing his sweaty purple hair, trying to meet clouded eyes that stared into space. “I’m going to help you, I promise.”

Words echoed down to him from somewhere in the sky, but Wooyoung was trapped in the glass box of his mind, struggling to escape the stench and the claustrophobia. Someone was playing with his hair. “Mother, is that you?” He whispered into the black hole. There was no answer.

...

When the time came the next morning, the guards simply let Hongjoong out of the cell and told him to get the plans and meet them at the portcullis. Finding medicine was yet another problem to deal with, but he was granted a fortunate reprieve in the Master’s absence at the sitting room.

“Where is he?”

“He had business to attend to this morning,” the Master’s wife answered his question before he realised she was there. “You have an interesting habit of sneaking up on people,” he observed after making sure the two of them were alone. She blushed but couldn’t think of what to answer with.

“So you say the ballroom isn’t wasted on you?” Hongjoong saw an opportunity to glean information and took it, strolling over and taking a seat on the piano bench. “Do you play?” He turned the tables on her, but her smile was unwavering. “Of course,” she laughed. There was a twinkle in his eye. “Play a duet with me?” He was the picture of innocence, and she couldn’t deny him. She cast a quick glance to the door before joining him on the bench. He smiled back. He had her where he wanted her, but if she was just a little closer... “I have to ask!” He said, charm flowing in his voice. “What’s your name?”

Again, the woman looked back at the door, this time with a tinge of worry and mumbled to herself, “I shouldn’t...” Hongjoong leaned closer. “I won’t tell anyone,” he teased. Just a bit closer! She stared at him for a moment before leaning in to whisper, “My name is—“ In an instant he grabbed her arm and twisted it behind her, pushing her onto the floor. “Now the question I meant to ask,” he murmured into her ear. “Where do you keep your medicine?”

It took nothing more for her to spill it to him, and with a warning that she forget this ever happened, he was gone in a flash, pulling the little vial off its shelf and running back down to the dungeon. He tossed the potion through the bars where San caught it and nodded a thanks. Hongjoong checked one more time for lurking guards before reporting to the portcullis and marching with them to the shipyard, beginning the long process of freeing his crew.

...

The others had been remarkably unsurprised that Hongjoong had found out about Wooyoung’s sickness during the night, but Seonghwa in particular seemed hopeful that the captain would return with the medicine they needed.

An answer to prayer, the tiny vial that held the solution, was suddenly tossed through the bars and caught by a restless San, who was waiting by the entrance to collect it. He didn’t even have time to properly thank him before Hongjoong was gone again, off to work before he got caught sneaking around. San immediately dropped by Wooyoung’s side and emptied the bottle into his mouth. When the liquid was down and the boy’s breath had evened out, the customary mass sigh of relief swept the group once again. San glared around at each member when they had gathered their wits.

“Not one of you is permitted to be sick after this, am I understood?”

...

There was a new sound coming from behind the curtain. Yeosang awoke from his restless sleep and stood facing it. Casually chatting voices were wafting to him from the other side. It sounded like the gathering of an audience. Yeosang’s heart began to pound. So this was it.

The door unlocking behind him made him jump and turn. It was the Master again, dressed finely with a handkerchief sticking out of his breast pocket. He was all business, his expressionless face focused on unlocking the glass box before he grabbed Yeosang tightly by the arm and brought him out. 

“Stand straight for me,” he ordered in a low voice. Yeosang’s abdomen was still crying out in pain from yesterday, but he stood as tall as he could, not wanting to experience another kick from the shining boots the Master had on. The man pulled out his handkerchief and wiped the dried blood off of Yeosang’s forehead, checking quickly for other visible wounds before returning him to the glass box. “Be still and silent. It will be over soon.” It was happening.

The curtain came up. Yeosang squinted as the sunlight poured in. Sunlight he hadn’t seen for days. He lifted a hand to his eyes to shield them from it and realised the auction had already begun. A sweat broke out on Yeosang’s forehead. People were bidding higher from left and right and he couldn’t keep up with them. There was so much yelling and the Master was talking a mile a minute. His own breath fogged up the glass, but when he wiped it away only one person, right in the middle of the crowd, had their hand raised. He didn’t get a good look.

“Going once.”

He was going to vomit.

“Going twice.”

His vision blacked out.

“Sold!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooooooo moral of the story is Woosan can’t keep secrets, Seonghwa is always watching, and Yeosang is not afraid to get his hands dirty (or bloody)!! This chapter was really long and yet I feel like not a whole lot actually happened. That’s what I get for separating the boys I guess :/ Anyway, the first spinoff series with an ATEEZ member backstory will be coming out soon and until then please kudos if you enjoyed ;) or if you hated lol.. Wondering who bought Yeosang? What’s next for the other members? What the Master is planning? Stay tuned ;)


	5. Sold

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wooyoung reached for his friend as he was fastened to the other side of the cart. They were just out of reach of each other, but as they kept their eyes linked they both relaxed into their seats. They may face separation again later, but they would cling to each other while they could.

“Give. Me. Time.”

Hongjoong was in the back corner of the prison cell, in the middle of an argument with Mingi. “Hyung, we’ve given all the time we can. We need to act now.” From a few feet away, Seonghwa heard the edge in Mingi’s voice and listened in more closely. “I haven’t gotten enough of his trust yet, Mingi. I can’t just pocket tools and smuggle them down here when he’s watching me the entire time I’m working!” 

“Well, you’re just going to have to figure it out because I don’t know whether you really did forget about Yeosang or you’re too busy enjoying all the perks of being the Master’s favourite but in case it escaped your notice, he was screaming in this hallway— something about wanting to come back to us— while they were dragging him away, not two days ago! And we haven’t heard anything about him since!”

Hongjoong was about to crack when Seonghwa’s waving hand suddenly appeared in front of Mingi’s red face. “Hey, hey, hey, what is going on here?” Both parties diverted their attention from each other and took note of their peacemaking hyung. “I thought this was supposed to be about the escape plan and here you are arguing in front of everyone else.” He frowned like a disappointed parent at both of them before they relented and settled back down onto the floor. “It’s not like there’s anywhere else to argue, you know,” Mingi mumbled. Hongjoong was gazing intently at his own hands for a minute or two before he found the words. 

“I’m really sorry we’re in this situation. I’m responsible for getting you out, I can’t blame you for wanting results.” Mingi looked over at him in acknowledgment before deciding to explain himself. “I’m sorry, too. For saying those things. It’s just that I’m so sick of being stuck in this stupid cell... you get to leave every day and I know you’re working hard but I just get jealous. It’s not your fault.” Seonghwa smiled at both of them cheerfully before retreating and allowing them to work it out themselves. Hongjoong was shaking his head. “It is my fault. I should have stopped it before it got this far but I couldn’t. I’m going to do everything in my power to get Yeosang back here, but I just need the right opportunity.” Mingi patted the captain’s shoulder and tried to look on the bright side. “At least Wooyoung is gaining strength.”

Jongho slid into the conversation. “Speaking of gaining strength, I think I have something else you can do other than start fights, Mingi-hyung.”

...

Hongjoong was collected for his work day and marched up to play a few songs for the Master’s wife, as had become customary in the last two days of work. The Master was usually present to stare down the captain, but today he was nowhere to be found. Acutely aware of the potential in this situation, Hongjoong wasted no time in asking the wife where he was that morning. She had been more timid around him since his opportunism the other day, but had stayed true to her word in not ratting him out to her husband. “Planning a banquet for some of our richer buyers,” she explained. “It’s going to be held tonight in the ballroom, we’d like you to play for us.” He offered a distracted nod and asked how long the preparations would take. “All day, most likely,” she got up to leave but threw a last comment over her shoulder. “He won’t be with you at the shipyard today. The guards can direct you instead.” 

Just as he had suspected. The time was now. 

...

“And 48...49... Yunho, back straight please...50. Well done.” Jongho was directing his companions in a workout session, trying to keep everyone fit and occupied, as was his usual job. The boys looked up from their pushups as Hongjoong was brought in the cell to join them for lunch.

“Alright, Mingi. You know how I was talking about an opportunity? I think this is it. Put this on.” From carefully hidden beneath his own clothes, he drew out a guard’s uniform and tossed it at the taller boy. “Where did you get this?” Mingi gaped at it. “I snatched it on my way back. Listen, there’s a big party tonight and the Master is going to be busy all day getting ready— which means he won’t be with me at the shipyard and I’ll have a better chance of stealing those tools to break you out.” The group tightened into a close huddle as the plan took shape. “With that uniform, Mingi, you can get into the guard’s room and open the portcullis with the lever inside. Is everyone in agreement?” There were mumbles of approval and nods all around before everyone returned to their meal. 

Yunho left Wooyoung’s side for the first time since he had fallen ill and sat next to Hongjoong, mindlessly munching on some hardtack as he looked over at the older boy. He flashed back to the memory of his captain’s sheen pink eyelids, limp strands of sandy hair, even his lips drained of colour and life. “You were dead not even a week ago,” he said quietly, a little afraid what Hongjoong would think about his suddenly bringing it up. “I can’t imagine how it felt, but I...”

“You want to know?”

He nodded. Hongjoong became pale and his eyes were distant. “I only really remember the moments leading up to it. The very thought of lifting a finger to wipe away your tears was exhausting. To lift my own head was impossible. It’s like being a useless sack of skin and bones. Unable to do anything. Comparable to... how I feel now.”

“That’s how the Master wants you to feel.” Yunho pointed out. “We have our chance tonight. We’ll find Yeosang and get out of here for good.” Hongjoong smiled fondly at the rigger. “You’re right. I’m just letting it get to me.” There was a short beat of companionable silence before he became curious. “Why did you ask about the sickness, anyway?” Yunho hung his head. “I held your hand while you were dying, you know. I didn’t even get to hold my own parents’ hands when they died and I wondered... what it’s like on the other side.” Hongjoong hummed in understanding and grasped Yunho’s shoulder. “They’re in a better place.” It wasn’t the first time Yunho and Hongjoong had spoken of such things, and soon Hongjoong was taken away again to the shipyard. Mingi pulled the uniform back out from where he was hiding it so the guards wouldn’t see. 

“I really hope this fits me.”

...

Yeosang had been led to a cart, along with at least ten other slaves who had materialised alongside him, and fastened in for the ride back to town. His new master’s residence was still impressive, though not as fortified. He still hadn’t actually laid eyes on the buyer, having blacked out while he was removed from his glass box for the last time and dragged out of the Fortress forever.

There was an aspect of relief, and also a tremendous fear of the unknown. His new master was that unknown at the moment, and all he could do to survive was comply with what he was told by the various overseers that gave orders to the group. The first night was spent in the corner of the small shack the slaves shared, minding his own business and staying away from everyone else. Rain pounded onto the boards that made up the roof, and a few leaks were discovered through the course of the night.

Of course the first order of business the next morning was not fixing the damage, but setting the slaves to work. Being the new slave, Yeosang had to be tested for his abilities before he could be placed somewhere in the household. When his overseer pulled him out of the shack and toward the main house he decided to be honest with him from the start and save some time and pain. “I can read and write.” The overseer stopped in his tracks. “I don’t know if that’s a skill you want to make use of, but...” Yeosang continued while the man considered him. “Very well, I’ll take you to his study,” the overseer concluded. 

The study was on the first floor of the building, tucked away into a lesser frequented part of the house, and the stone floor stretched on for longer than expected. It looked from the outside like a much smaller room than it was on the inside, and the interior was a mess. Bottles and vials were strewn all over, mismatched furniture placed in random places, papers scattered across them. The overseer sat him down in a squeaky wooden chair and provided a quill and some parchment. With a confident tone of voice, he asked the new slave to write down the following paragraph and then recited some unknown passage. Yeosang effortlessly transcribed it, attractive handwriting flowing from his nimble fingers. When he was finished, he handed the paper back. The overseer scanned it over quickly before stuttering out an “excuse me, I just need to check with the boss” and running out of the study.

Yeosang would put money on his theory that the overseer couldn’t actually read and had only been hired for his muscle. At any rate, it took him quite awhile to “check with the boss” and Yeosang was left to explore the study himself. One ancient tome was of particular interest. It sat open on a stand atop the main desk, and it was clear some pages had been ripped out. Yeosang examined the writing more closely. It looked like some kind of incantation. Shocked, he took a step back. It was a recipe for a magic potion. “Is my new master some kind of sorcerer?”

...

When the time came, Wooyoung insisted on being the one to go find Yeosang, and San insisted on going with Wooyoung. “He’s still getting over the sickness!” He argued. “I’ll not have him collapsing.” Hongjoong appeared with some nails he had snatched from under the guards’ noses just before sunset and handed them through the bars to his crew with a few short instructions. “I knocked out the guard at the other end of this hallway, so you should have a bit of time. As soon as you get it open, Mingi you know what to do. I’ll be playing piano at the party, so I’ll try to cover any noise you make opening the portcullis. Meet all of you, including Yeosang, at the gate in twenty minutes.” He was about to scurry off again when Seonghwa grabbed his arm through the bars and asked a question. “What do we do with the tools when we’re finished?” Hongjoong thought about it for a moment. “Leave them in the cell, I guess. Hide them for the next poor soul waiting to be sold.”

Once the lock had been picked by the sure fingered Yunho and the nails had been hidden in a crack in the stone wall, all six members tiptoed out of their stuffy prison wing and toward freedom. Wooyoung remembered which direction the screams had come from that evening Yeosang had tried to escape and took a path off to the left, an apprehensive San trailing behind. The heavy looking door at the end of the hallway was their best bet, and as they got closer Wooyoung realised it was already cracked open. He motioned for San to stay close behind him and carefully pushed the door until he could peek through. 

“It’s clear,” he whispered. San had grabbed his hand. “Do you see anything inside?” Wooyoung strained his neck to get a glimpse into the room. “There’s some kind of box... like a large prism. Tall enough for a human to stand inside!” He stopped squinting and crept into the room for a closer look. San gasped and tugged on his sleeve. “Wooyoung, look! There’s a lock on it!” A chill slithered down Wooyoung’s spine. “Someone was in here, for sure,” he muttered. There were a few drops of dried blood on the bottom of the box. “I’m willing to bet it was Yeosang.”

...

Seonghwa, Yunho, and Jongho were waiting in a small crevice next to the portcullis as a disguised Mingi wandered around looking for the guardroom. When he found it, the coast was not as clear as he had hoped. Two guards sat inside with tankards of rum and gambled over an item of jewellery wrestled off of some slave. 

Mingi broke out in a sweat. How was he supposed to pull the lever for the portcullis without being caught? He ran a few scenarios in his mind in the seconds he had before the other guards noticed him and came up dry. “You there! Fetch more rum!” Mingi wordlessly took their tankards and slipped out of the room. He had no idea where he was supposed to get rum and more importantly, how he was going to get the portcullis open. Again, he wandered the corridors, peeking in rooms to see if they were stocked with rum barrels, when an idea hit him. The party!

Hongjoong was on his third song when he glanced at the clock and saw twenty minutes had almost passed. It was time to make his exit. He excused himself to use the restroom when he bumped into someone tall. After a double take he realised who it was. “Mingi?” He whispered harshly. Mingi glared at him through his borrowed helmet and jerked his head to the left. The two slipped away from the festivities and into the kitchen next to the ballroom. “What are you doing here?” Mingi explained hurriedly, “There are two guards in the room with the lever, I can’t pull it while they’re sitting there! And they told me to get rum, so... Oh, look! There’s rum over here!” He went to fill both tankards and go back down to the dungeon level but was stopped by Hongjoong. “Wait, don’t give them rum. Give them something stronger to knock them out. I’ll give you ten more minutes.” 

With that, Hongjoong went back to the piano and began another song. Mingi searched the kitchen until he found a strong enough substitute and carried it back to the guards. They accepted the alcohol gratefully and downed it at remarkable speed. Mingi loitered uncomfortably until the second guard’s head hit the table, and then rushed over and began opening the portcullis. There was a lot of resistance on the lever but he threw his entire body weight into it with a stifled grunt and pushed it down until it clicked. The sound of the portcullis opening jerked his body up. Mingi hurried out to meet the other three who were frowning in confusion. After a scan of the area he knew what the issue was. “Shouldn’t they have found Yeosang by now?” Their extra ten minutes had passed. 

...

“He’s not here anymore,” San whispered into space, grasping the opened lock in his hand. “Does that mean he’s been sold?” Before Wooyoung could answer, there was a sound at the door. Both panicked, but there was nowhere to hide and no time. A familiar face emerged from behind the door. “Seunghyun?” San wasted no time leaping at him to tackle him to the ground but Seunghyun was quick and snatched the boy’s raised arm, twisting it behind his back. Wooyoung ran over to free his friend but a yell from San stopped him short. Seunghyun was pulling the twisted arm harder, threatening to break it. “Get in the box,” he ordered over San’s whimpers. Wooyoung backed slowly into the transparent prism behind him, not wanting to lie down without a fight. “Is this your only fighting tactic?” He mocked. Seunghyun snorted at him and began to advance, San still secure in his tight grip. “It’s worked just fine on you lot,” he retorted, throwing San into the box alongside Wooyoung. There was barely enough space for the two of them and as they squirmed around each other someone else entered the room and locked the glass box. It was the Master.

“Well, look who has volunteered to be sold!”

...

“We can’t just go without them!” Yunho hissed. “How do you expect to break back in later?” Jongho groaned back at him, “The portcullis is wide open, when do you expect we’ll get another chance like this?” A guard appeared at the end of the hallway. “Slaves are escaping!” He screamed. “Slaves escaping!” He repeated it and fled back the way he had come. A bell began to ring somewhere. “Run for it, now!” Jongho was yelling now. “I agree!” Mingi chimed in, throwing off his helmet. “Captain’s not here yet either, we can’t just—“ Seonghwa was cut off by the thunderous drumming of boots on the ground and the sudden appearance of about a dozen guards, crossbows aimed at the four escapees. Jongho wiped his hand down his face in irritation before raising both in the air. 

They had been caught.

...

Hongjoong bowed for the applause and then made for the exit. It was now or never. His path was suddenly blocked by the Master’s wife. “I know what you’re thinking, and I would advise against it,” she crooned. Hongjoong met her eyes and fiercely returned her gaze. “I’m sure you’re mistaken,” his voice was low and firm. Her long icy fingers wrapped around his wrist. He wanted badly to shake them off but the entire company of party guests was staring at them now. The woman sensed it too and spun around to face them, a sparkling smile displayed. “Another round of applause for our lovely performer!” As the clapping died down she pulled him with her back to the imperial staircase and up the opposite side. When they were out of the ballroom, Hongjoong began to struggle but was suddenly restrained by a pair of guards. 

“What exactly is this concerning?” He gritted out as he was pushed along behind the wife. “Your crew members were just caught attempting to escape downstairs. My husband has gone down to deal with the matter but he told me it was best if you stay up here in this part of the mansion for your own sake. Can’t have you getting wrapped up in all that, can we?” Her tone was composed and her pace was normal, but her cold grasp was unnerving and Hongjoong wasn’t buying her act. 

They drew up to a plain one person bedroom and the woman ushered him in, standing at the door. Hongjoong’s frown stayed on his face, even as he touched the soft pillows prepared for him. “When’s the last time you slept on a real bed I wonder?” The wife laughed from the doorway. She pulled out a key and began to close the door but was interrupted by Hongjoong’s call. “When can I see my crew?” Her hands fidgeted with the sleeve of her dress. “That will be discussed later. Sleep well,” she blurted out before closing the door and striding away. 

Hongjoong took his coat off with a sigh and sat on the bed. It was the first time he had truly been alone since those long days on the abandoned island, before the ATEEZ. There was a bigger problem now; it was going to be even more difficult to escape now that they were separated. In the depths of his mind, a thought waited to be addressed. “Should we try to leave at all?”

...

The night was long and sleepless for Wooyoung and San. They managed to wiggle themselves into a position where they could at least breathe even though they couldn’t stretch their legs. They sat back to back, heads resting back onto the other’s shoulder, gazing up through the tip of the glass box. “We’re really going to be sold,” Wooyoung whispered into the void. “Just like Yeosang.” San shifted his head to whisper back, “As long as we stick together we’ll be alright. Still have the necklace?” Wooyoung checked and cleared his throat. “Yeah. Don’t you suppose they’ll confiscate it? Whoever buys me—“ “Let’s not think about that now, huh?” San drowned out his worries. “Try to get some sleep.” Wooyoung sighed deeply and forced his eyes closed. Sleep did not find him.

Only when the Master opened the door and entered the room hours later could Wooyoung tell morning had come. San stirred on his shoulder and tried to stretch, stopped short by the glass walls. He rubbed his elbow with a pout and squinted at the Master. “The buyer from a couple of days ago is back for more slaves. Be still and silent,” the man recited, striding over to the curtain at the end of the room and preparing to raise it. “It will be over soon.”

The curtain swept up and light poured in. Both boys shot to their feet in surprise, bumping into each other. “The buyer from a couple of days ago! Yeosang’s buyer?” San didn’t get a chance to respond because a cacophony of bidding broke out in the audience that had assembled behind the curtain. It was dizzying for a few minutes as the prices went higher and higher and for a moment the boys weren’t sure which of them was currently being bid on. When the Master finally yelled “Sold!” and then yanked Wooyoung out of the box, it was clear that they were about to be separated. Wooyoung was handed off to the iron grip of the bearded man that had bought him and San was left screaming and pounding on the wall of the box. 

“Buy me, too! Take me with you, I’m useful! Please!” His voice became hoarse but he continued slamming his hands into the side of the prism, tears and sweat streaming down the glass. “Take me with you! I beg you, don’t leave me! Please!” Wooyoung kicked and fought the man that was beginning to drag him away as his servants paid the Master the sum he was being traded for. He could see a cart pulling up to take him away and he struggled for his life. For a split second, he caught sight of San, who was yelling at the top of his lungs for the buyer to come back for him. “He can’t hear you!” He thought. “Sir, please!” Wooyoung halted in place, no longer fighting but refusing to move all the same. “Please buy that boy in the box! He’s very strong and very smart. He’s a carpenter and he knows about medicine, too! He’ll be useful to you!” The buyer slapped the disobedient slave across the face. “You’re just saying that because he’s your friend,” he declared and pulled Wooyoung closer to the cart. “No, look! He’s very strong, I promise!” With the last of his strength, Wooyoung turned his buyer around, pointing at the box which shook from the force of San’s fists. The man paused and sighed. He glared at Wooyoung and chained him to the cart, but turned and rejoined the audience to outbid them for San as well. Wooyoung reached for his friend as he was fastened to the other side of the cart. They were just out of reach of each other, but as they kept their eyes linked they both relaxed into their seats. They may face separation again later, but they would cling to each other while they could.

...

Yeosang rose with the sun for his new job. He was to transcribe his master’s correspondence and experiment notes every morning, and then run errands in the afternoon. The boss was late this time, only emerging in his office a few hours after the sun was up. Yeosang had a slight suspicion that he had been at the Fortress auction but when he returned to the slave shack for the slime that was dubbed lunch, his suspicions were confirmed. Wooyoung and San huddled in the corner, waiting to be tested and placed.

“What are you two doing here? Does Captain know about this?” Yeosang tried to look angry, and be strict with the two younger boys but the way Wooyoung was already breaking down in relief softened his heart and he simply shook his head. Wooyoung bit his lip as tears rolled down his cheeks. “Yeosang, you have to understand. If we succeed, we succeed together. If we go down, we go down together.” Yeosang was speechless. He stuttered for a minute before sitting down and facing the two boys. “I wanted to rescue myself, just once. Once again you’ve come to fetch me,” he covered his mouth as tears choked his speech. “I’m afraid it’ll be for nothing, Wooyoung. The two of you have just doomed yourselves.”

...

“And now there are four,” Mingi groaned. “Our group has been reduced to half its size.” “How much longer now?” Seonghwa asked no one in particular. “It smells in here.” “It smelled worse when there were eight of you,” a voice came from outside the cell.

It was the guard who had caught them at the portcullis. He watched them with narrowed eyes and a hand rubbing what looked like a minor stab wound on his neck.  
“Second escape attempt this week from you lot,” he sounded annoyed, but there was an undertone of astonishment in his voice. “You realise those are very rare around here, don’t you?” Seonghwa shook his head slowly. The guard tilted his head curiously at him. “What do you have out there that’s so worth all the trouble?” Seonghwa was dumbfounded. “Nothing,” he shrugged. “All we have is each other. But we want our freedom.” The guard looked lost in thought for a few seconds before he walked out of sight. Seonghwa turned to Yunho and lowered his voice. “If we play our cards right, we may be gaining an ally on the inside.”

A clamour at the end of the hall perked up all four of the prisoners. As they met at the bars of their cell they looked down the hall. There were about a dozen people being led past the rows of cells. “New prisoners?” Jongho muttered. The group was forced into the next door cell, their protests echoing through the entire chamber. Yunho turned to the others. “Is this a good thing or a bad thing?” Seonghwa couldn’t tell, but he did know one thing for sure.

“I believe we’ve tapped into something larger than ourselves.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oops I made myself sad :(


	6. Blood in the Water

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Even Hongjoong’s fingertips twinged with pain as guilt slammed full force into him as he met eyes with the owner of the hair.
> 
> It was Yeosang.

Sleeping alone in an unfamiliar place gave Hongjoong deep dreams dragged up from places his mind rarely wandered to now. There was a sudden image from the past. His parents. He hadn’t thought about them in awhile, but the conversation with Yunho had put them back in the forefront of his mind. It was like looking through a foggy window at seemingly mundane moments in his early life. His mother burying things in the garden for him to find. His father showing him the ropes to his sailboat. “You can do anything you set your mind to, if you love it.”

Hongjoong’s eyes opened of their own accord. Dawn was streaking in the sky but his little room was quiet. His parents’ words bounced off the walls. What would they think if they knew what had happened? The scar on his wrist tingled and Hongjoong ghosted over it with his fingers. What would Eden think? There it was again. The ache in his chest that reminded him what he was doing out here in the first place. It was a long detour they were on, but the dream was achievable if he kept his wits about him. 

There was a knock at the door. Hongjoong sat straight up in bed before rising to answer it. “Seunghyun!” Hongjoong was so shocked it took him a full three seconds to remember how much he wanted to clobber the man and raise his fist to do it. “Ah ah ah!” Seunghyun snapped and two guards appeared at his side. “Come on, Captain, I’m just here to invite you to breakfast. Don’t get all worked up.” Hongjoong’s eyes narrowed. “Breakfast? No, I eat with my crew.” Seunghyun rolled his eyes theatrically. “If the Master says you’re coming to breakfast, you’re coming to breakfast. Follow me.” 

Hongjoong grabbed his coat and went after the man reluctantly, heading back towards the imperial staircase. “Where have you been?” He asked, stretching his legs to keep up. “Doing my job,” Seunghyun answered simply. “And that is?” “Bringing the Master more slaves to sell. Getting hired onto ships and taking them over. Same thing I did to you.” Hongjoong lifted an eyebrow. “So there are more prisoners now?” Seunghyun nodded absently, opening the door to the dining hall. “I’ve been doing this for years, you’ll get used to it. It’s not like I mutinied out of malice or anything. No hard feelings.” “No hard feelings? Oh there are very hard feelings, trust me,” Hongjoong quieted to a mumble as they approached the Master and his wife, who were already seated at the excessively long wooden table. 

“Ah! Thank you for joining us. I trust you and Seunghyun are getting along well?” Seunghyun smiled encouragingly at the Master while Hongjoong simply scowled. He was guided into a seat and offered some food, which sat untouched on his plate as he interrogated the Master. “When do I see my crew?” “There’s no rush!” The domineering man chuckled around a bite of toast. “Why, I don’t even think they noticed your absence last night. They’re all doing just fine on their own. The quiet one, what was his name?” He lowered his voice and asked out of the corner of his mouth. “Yeosang,” Seunghyun supplied, masking it with a bite of sausage. “—Yeosang! Yeosang was enjoying his meal the other day, wasn’t he?” Here the Master smiled a sly grin at a guard who stood near the door, neck bandaged from being stabbed there. 

“And the rest of my crew?” “Better off without you.” Hongjoong was ready to retort when the Master’s comment sunk in. He was just trying to separate the team, but at the same time, he had a point. What had he given his members other than a lifestyle of constant danger? Were they, in fact, better off without him? The Master swallowed his bite and leaned forward. “Here at the Fortress, we put skills to use. Isn’t that what you do as a captain as well?” Hongjoong refused to meet his eyes. “No, it’s not the same. There’s a system, things are fair. You hold people against their will and sell them. You treat them as less than people.” The Master’s wife sighed once the accusation was in the air but didn’t interject, allowing her husband to argue with the boy. “No, don’t try to take the moral high ground, you’re a killer deep down and we all know it. Including your men!” Hongjoong was angry now. His volume increased with the accusations, “We have rules. You lack propriety.” “You lack decisiveness!” The Master returned, still eating but also visibly provoked. “Here you are, trying to tell me how awful I am while you sleep in my house and eat my food. Admit it, son! I’m doing more for you now than anyone has in your entire life. This is an improvement from the pirate scum existence you were living before, Seunghyun can testify!” Hongjoong stood and slammed his fist on the table. He’d had enough. “I am not your son, I am your prisoner! If you’re not going to allow me access to my crew, don’t expect me to do anything for you.”

A dark shadow passed over the Master’s face. The life was sucked clean out of the room as the man’s voice dropped dangerously low.  
“Hongjoong, you remember what happens when you decide to make demands, right?” Hongjoong remembered. His skin remembered its beating, and the vision of Yeosang being marched away was etched in his mind. He sat down slowly, feeling very far away from himself. The Master returned to his meal like nothing happened and changed the subject. “Working on the masts today, correct?” Hongjoong nodded and got back on his feet. “I’ll be at the harbour. The masts will take all day and then some.” He began to make for the door but the Master’s wife called after him. “Your food!” “I’m not hungry!” Hongjoong threw the comment over his shoulder but saw Seunghyun standing up to join him. “And you stay away from me! I might kill you if you get too close.”

Seunghyun was ready to fire back but the Master placed a firm hand on his shoulder. “No, let him go, Seunghyun.” The three of them watched Hongjoong stalk away to the main hall. “Follow at a distance. We’ve got him where we want him.”

...

Hongjoong had yet to show his face in the dungeon, and his members were getting worried. “Maybe the Master’s keeping him away from us,” Jongho suggested, exasperated. Yunho was still trying to wrap his head around the whole situation. “Why would he do that?”

“Why would he do that? To fuel his slave business. To separate us and make us weaker. To piss us off! I don’t know and I don’t care,” Jongho turned around and faced the wall, shaking with anger. Yunho could see how upset he was and felt compelled to cheer him up.

“Jongho?” “What?” He tried to look indifferent, but his lip quivered. “We still have the nails. Remember? I hid them in the wall.” Yunho pointed to a crack between bricks. “We can still get out of here.” “Getting out is not the problem,” Seonghwa spoke up. “Getting everyone back together is.” 

“He’s right,” a voice came from outside the cell. All heads snapped up in panic, afraid they had just revealed themselves. It was the guard with the neck wound again. He stood facing the hallway, but it was clear he was speaking to them. “Your group is more separated than you know.”

“What do you mean?” Seonghwa went over to the bars and lowered his voice just in case other guards were in the vicinity. The guard answered in an equally hushed tone, “Three of your members have been sold. If I’m correct, to the same buyer.”

“And Hongjoong?” Mingi joined Seonghwa at the bars. “He’s living upstairs in the mansion now. I was up there earlier and he wanted to see you but the Master wouldn’t allow it. He’s off at the harbour today.” “Is it possible for you to help him sneak back in—“ The guard cut him off. “It’s not that simple. The Master isn’t just forcing him to work, he’s...he’s playing with his mind. Convincing him to stay and become part of the household.” Mingi scoffed. “Surely he’s not buying it?” The guard paused for a second before cautiously answering, “You underestimate the Master.” “You underestimate our Captain,” Seonghwa countered. The guard didn’t move or speak for awhile, eyes planted on the end of the hallway watching for danger. “The Master will be here later to punish one of you for the escape attempt,” he finally said offhandedly.

“Is it presumptuous to rely on you to help us all make it out of here?” Yunho had joined them at the bars. The guard sighed and turned around, removing his helmet. He looked tired and middle aged but with some life left in his dark eyes. “Again, it’s not as simple as you think. Unlike you, there is something important for me out there. My son. But now he is a prisoner, too.” He stared longingly at the cell next to the boys’, where the new prisoners were still asleep. “I can’t jeopardise his safety, but I need to get him out, too. The things the Master is capable of... I would not wish them on my worst enemy, let alone my precious son.” Yunho nodded in understanding. “What can we call you?”

“My name is Lee Junseok. I’ll help you on one condition. We break everyone out of this hellhole, not just you.” 

...

Yeosang lectured Wooyoung and San through the early morning. He was only ahead of them by a couple of days, but he was a quick learner and knew what to be careful of in the life of a slave. “They’ll come to test you soon,” he whispered, adjusting a bowl to catch dripping water from the ceiling of the shack. “If we tell them we can read and write, do you think—“ “No,” Yeosang cut San off with a somber shake of the head. “He doesn’t need any more transcribers. Most likely you’ll be put on some kind of carpentry project. And Wooyoung, I don’t know what they’ll do with you. Try to stick together, but don’t insist on it or you’ll be beaten. That gets you nowhere. Remember we can at least see each other every night.”

“Now that we’re together,” Wooyoung remarked. “We can all get out of here.” Yeosang sighed, “First I need to find out how to break the slave spell.” “Slave spell?” San didn’t like the sound of that. “It’s how our owner keeps his slaves from running away. He’s a sorcerer. When you’re placed in a job he casts the spell on you. Any slave trying to escape a set perimeter will be struck with a sudden burning sensation. I haven’t seen anyone try to leave yet, but the description alone sounds like an awful torment.” Wooyoung sat straight up. “Where did you read about this?” Yeosang beckoned them closer. “The spellbook in his study. I was there to be examined for reading and writing and I flipped through it. I’m the exception to the spell. He didn’t cast it on me so that I can run errands for him. Which means until I figure out how to break the spell, the two of you aren’t going anywhere. That’s why I told you, you’ve doomed yourselves,” his face fell in regret. “It would have been better if you didn’t come.” 

“Don’t say that,” Wooyoung shook his head fervently. “I have faith in you.” “Does it hurt?” San’s voice came out in a whimper. “When the spell is cast?” Yeosang wasn’t sure. He knew the sorcerer preferred if the slaves didn’t understand what the spell was so that once they attempted to escape the pain was a surprise to them, and that much worse. “I’ve never seen it done, but I know you can stand it San. You’re stronger than you think.” The dripping water echoed through the shack. “Have you run any errands yet?” Wooyoung asked after a moment. “Not real ones. My overseer brought me to the market and showed me where things are. It was so stuffy and crowded...”

San was amazed. “All those people. They don’t see?” “Or they refuse to.” Yeosang contemplated what he knew of the town. “It’s like this whole place is enslaved. Everyone is afraid of someone, so no one rebels.” A shiver collectively passed through them. “Just stay alert,” Yeosang concluded. “Here come the overseers.”

...

As a reward for finishing the main mast and mizzenmast in a timely manner, the Master allowed Hongjoong to eat the evening meal in his own room. Not that he wanted to eat at all. The Master let himself in with a tray and sat around until it was finished. 

“Curious how your crew is doing?” “No,” Hongjoong lied. “Seonghwa is taking care of them.” The Master lifted his eyebrows. Interesting. Time to switch tactics. “You wouldn’t hate me if you knew what it was really like here,” he commented as Hongjoong ate his food reluctantly. He didn’t answer but the man went on anyway. “There’s not much order in the East. That’s why we’re here— to create it. People like order, believe it or not. Makes them feel safe, from savages like you. Tell me, why are you a pirate?” 

“Because I wanted to be,” Hongjoong finally sighed. He didn’t want to indulge the Master’s curiosity but it wouldn’t really do any harm to tell him. Maybe it would even shut him up. “I can’t speak for everyone in my service, some were pressed in, some made the choice due to circumstances, but for many of us it’s as simple as that.”

“See?” The older man chuckled. “Sometimes we need to be told what’s best for us. You have to tell your crew what’s best for them, and it appears I have to tell you what’s best for you.” Hongjoong had to roll his eyes at this. “You know nothing about me.” “Wrong. I know about Eden, I know about your Navy’s manhunt for you, I know everything I need to, boy.” Hongjoong was amazed. “How?” 

“I have eyes and ears everywhere,” The Master brushed off his question and got to the point. “Hongjoong, can you honestly say you’d choose the same path given the chance to start all over again?” Hongjoong opened his mouth to deny him. He wanted so badly to deny him. He needed the answer to be yes. The Master watched him closely and gave one last thought before leaving him alone.

“I’ve built an empire and offered you a place in it. Weigh that against your probability of success on whatever quest you embarked on when you built your first ship.”

...

Just as Junseok had warned them, the Master arrived at their cell with a pair of guards just before midnight. He clasped his hands together and bowed mockingly.

“My apologies! I’ve been otherwise occupied but, no, I didn’t forget about you. You four were caught misbehaving and trying to leave without permission. And that calls for punishment.” Seonghwa stood and grabbed the bars in front of the Master’s face. “Just punish me,” he insisted. “It was my idea, and I alone am responsible.”

The man smirked at him knowingly.  
“Seonghwa, I presume?” Seonghwa nodded in confusion. How did he know his name? “He speaks highly of you. Or, spoke, I should say.” Hongjoong. But Seonghwa was still baffled by the wording the Master chose. “‘Spoke’ because he doesn’t seem to want to talk about you now. Either way, I won’t let him discuss crew members until he’s finished the first ship for me. Which is coming along beautifully, by the way.” He rolled up his sleeves and entered the cell, still rambling. 

“By the time the fleet is finished, all of you will have new owners and homes and there will be no need for your Captain to discuss you at all. And I think, noble, sacrificial Seonghwa,” he had a sinister twinkle in his eye. “Someone is going to pay a lot of money for you.” His eyes danced at the dumbfounded members. “I’ll take you up on your offer. Guards!” The guards entered the cell to restrain Seonghwa as the Master got his own hands dirty, thrashing him soundly as punishment for hatching an escape plan. 

The members knew what was coming and still could barely hold themselves back. Mingi was doing the math in his head, he knew it was possible that the four of them could take two guards and the Master, but then what? The rest of the guards would catch them, the Master would recover, and Wooyoung and San would be punished, wherever they were locked up. It was always an endless cycle, and they were in the middle of it every time. 

Seonghwa’s ears were ringing from being boxed, but the beating was concentrated on his midsection, so that it could be hid from potential buyers no doubt. He was silent through each punch, even when he felt a searing pain through his abdomen. By the time the Master was done with him, his gun wound stitches had reopened and his legs could barely hold him upright. “What makes you...so sure...” he gasped out from the floor where he was dropped. “...about Hongjoong?” The Master grinned at him and leaned in before he relocked the cell. “Because he’s finally being submissive. All we need is to push him over the edge. But you have other things to worry about!” He smirked at the red stain growing under Seonghwa’s shirt and made his exit.

The moment he was out of sight the other three flew to Seonghwa’s side as he collapsed. “Look!” Yunho lifted the bloody shirt and examined the reopened wound. “It was finally healing and now—“ “I’m going to kill him,” Mingi growled and shot to his feet. “You hear me?” He screamed down the hallway, too far away for the Master to hear him. “I’m going to kill you!” Jongho’s face was in his hands as he watched Yunho stop the bleeding and try his best to close the stitches again. “Hyung...” he was overcome with emotion, everyone startling at the choked up tears in his voice. “You shouldn’t have...”

“Jongho, come here,” Seonghwa opened his arms for him. The boy gave in and accepted his hug, gingerly avoiding the gunshot wound. Seonghwa petted his dark hair with what strength he had left, “It’s alright, you don’t have to... to be strong all the time.” Jongho couldn’t get a word out around his sniffles, but he wanted to berate the older boy for offering himself up. “Neither do you,” Yunho insisted gently, joining the hug with one arm still firmly pressed on Seonghwa’s wound. 

It stormed that night, harder than it had earlier in the week, but the real storm was in Jongho’s mind as he fell into the grip of a nightmare. Like sinking into a black inky ocean, he slipped from one image to another. Voices and fists raising in a symphony of chaos, torch light reflected on wet stone, the deep bite of frost etched across a torn white sail, blood seeping into the wooden boards, bubbling as it flowed endlessly down and filled the space Jongho was in. He kicked and fought but couldn’t keep its crimson stain away until the surroundings finally melted and he surfaced. Someone cradled him while he cried, and shook the revelation out from inside him. “Someone is going to die.”

...

The verdict was in when the sun came up. Wooyoung and San could remain together, but would be doing hard labour daily until Yeosang could figure out how to break them free. They walked into the owner’s study, hands fused together, fearful of the slave spell that was going to be cast. Their buyer entered the room wordlessly, took his book in hand and recited an incantation, and then walked out. “That was it?” Wooyoung asked. “Silence!” An overseer struck him across the face and pushed the pair back out the way they came. The spell was surprisingly painless, but both boys felt a tingling and a heaviness in their legs, as if a cumbersome chain dragged behind them, invisible. 

Without ceremony they were put to work repairing their own shack. The grainy soil was still wet from the storm the night before, but San showed Wooyoung which boards to put together and how as the sun climbed in the sky, gradually heating the ground below them until it was a semi-stable surface to work with. They worked well, even though silence was imposed on them and their thoughts drifted away from their imprisonment.

Yeosang was sent to the market to deliver the letters he had written in the morning, but on his way out he glanced again at the open spellbook and memorised what he saw. Ingredients for an unbinding potion, one that would hopefully break the spell. He wasn’t sure where in the market to find these unfamiliar things, so he took his time on the road to the post and read every banner and stall sign. He hadn’t had luck so far, but he searched the cobblestone streets carefully, knowing escape was impossible without his prize.

...

“We need to act soon.” All four officers looked up at the source of the voice. Junseok had approached and addressed them suddenly. “What’s wrong?” Mingi stood and went to him, leaving Yunho to care for the sleeping Seonghwa and a mumbling Jongho who remained lost in his own mind. “It’s... it’s my son,” The guard panted out, taking off his helmet again. “They’re selling him tomorrow.” He swallowed and scratched his head anxiously. 

“Have you gotten in contact with Captain yet?” Mingi sighed. “There’s not much we can do from here without his help.” “No,” The guard shook his head. “He’s in the market getting materials today. The storm damaged some sails last night. I’ll tell you what you can do, though.” Mingi blinked at him. “Well?” “Start talking to the prisoners next door. Tell them what’s coming. Get them angry. If we incite a rebellion, there will be no stopping us. I’ll do the same to my fellow guards.”

“Fellow guards? You’re sure they can be trusted?” Junseok threw his helmet to the ground to help him understand. “We’re just slaves, same as you. The only difference is that you’re behind bars.” “Alright,” Mingi nodded. “When you see Captain, tell him not to listen to the Master. Tell him what he did to Yeosang, San, and Wooyoung. Get him in on the revolt and I’m sure it will succeed.”

Junseok collected his helmet and retreated the way he came. Mingi watched him go, gripping the bars in anticipation. The plan could not fail this time. Not with an army behind them.

...

Hongjoong walked the streets of the market, his mind far away from his body. The temptation to accept the Master’s offer of stability and safety pounded at him, making his head ache. The day he lost his parents and every day after had been filled with fear and scrapes with death that increased in their severity. The Navy had a claim on him, and he was sick of outrunning it on his own. 

If the Master truly took him in, he would be untouchable. He would be lonely, but secure in his future. For all he knew, his crew had already been slaughtered. Why did he wait around to see if they would reveal themselves? Hongjoong tripped over an uneven patch in the road, trying and failing to stop himself on a basket of bread, and scraping his arms on the stone. As he got up from the spilled bread with a groan, a flash of pink caught his eye. It was a head of hair, several stalls up the road from him. Pink hair? Here? The head turned to face him as the owner of the bread stall yelled at him to pay for the damage. Even Hongjoong’s fingertips twinged with pain as guilt slammed full force into him as he met eyes with the owner of the hair.

It was Yeosang.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note to self; writing in the middle of the night is the best way to go 👌🏻 So what did you think of the new chapter? Is anything ever going to go right for our boys? Let me know and kudos if you don’t mind, as always thanks for being here <3 more soon!


	7. Junyoung

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The chief enforcer was dead, and a rebellion was brimming to the surface.

Jongho’s eyes were bloodshot when he finally came to. “Mingi, Mingi!” A voice leapt with excitement next to his face. It sounded like Yunho’s. “Jongho seems to have returned to us!” When he opened his heavy lids, he could see two faces peering down at him. “Jongho, what’s the earliest thing you can remember?” Mingi asked. Yunho punched him in the arm. “That’s not a fair question, Mingi. I wouldn’t ask for the earliest thing you can remember!” Mingi frowned at him. “Fine, if you can think of something better then ask it.” “Jongho, do you know who we are?” 

Jongho sat up slowly, minding the pain in his head. “Yunho,” he pointed at him and turned his finger to Mingi. “And Mingi. And that’s Seonghwa. Seonghwa!” Jongho rushed over to the sleeping hyung with a gasp and knelt by his side. “Is he going to be alright? His stitches are fixed, I see.” Yunho nodded and joined him, running a hand delicately through Seonghwa’s hair. “I did the best I could. We need San.” “About that,” Mingi sat on the other side of Seonghwa, facing them. “I spoke to Junseok a moment ago. He’s going to reveal himself to Hongjoong.”

“Who?”

Mingi opened his mouth to repeat it and suddenly stopped short. “Junseok? You remember, the guard that’s going to help us.” Jongho swatted a hand at him. “No, no, who is the second person?” “Hongjoong. You know?” Jongho showed no sign of recognition. Yunho was sending panicked looks from next to him but Mingi shook his head vehemently and continued. “Hongjoong! Captain Hongjoong!”

Jongho enunciated slowly and clearly, “I don’t know who you’re talking about.” Yunho gaped at Mingi. “How is this possible? He knows us but not Captain?” Mingi was sweating profusely. “He met Captain first, it makes sense...” “The memory he lost is of meeting Captain, and that erased him entirely?” Yunho asked to clarify. Mingi shrugged in response. “Is there really any other explanation?” Jongho was beginning to look upset at all this arguing over his memory loss, so Yunho grabbed Mingi by the collar and marched him over to the other corner of the cell. “We have to do something about this.” “There is nothing we can do, Yunho. We’ve already tried everything.”

“It’s a curse, right?” Yunho was running his hands through his hair, thoughts darting back and forth. “Curses can be broken! Think back to when it started.” Mingi sighed but Yunho grasped his arm, unrelenting. “You were there, I wasn’t. What happened? Jongho’s forgotten and Captain isn’t here, so I need you to remember for me, Mingi.” Mingi let the memory wash over him. 

“We approached an unfamiliar island. It was only Captain, Seonghwa-hyung, and I at the time, plus a small rigging crew. Seonghwa stayed behind on the ship to watch for enemies while the two of us took a longboat. As we walked along the beach, we saw someone tossing around in the sand.” “Jongho?” Mingi nodded and went on. “He was having his first nightmare. When he came to in Hongjoong’s arms he said he had never experienced anything like that before. It started off small, the memory loss. After that first dream he just couldn’t remember the name of his hometown. So he decided to come with us! But the dreams continued and he kept forgetting things, each one more important than the last... and here we are today. How exactly do you think this will help?” 

“He didn’t have any dreams until you arrived?” Yunho was stroking his chin, deep in hypotheses. “Well, as far as we know—“ Again Mingi was cut off. “As far as you know! But he told you it had never happened which means unless he forgot about it, which is unlikely because they recur, he was correct. So why did they start? Did it have something to do with you?” Mingi raised his hands defensively. “Hey, I didn’t do anything! And neither did Captain! If we somehow brought the curse to him, then why wasn’t anyone else affected by it?” Yunho began pacing. “I don’t know yet. But we need to ask Hongjoong hyung. He probably knows something you don’t.” 

Mingi scowled at this. “Trying won’t hurt anything, but Yunho, you do realise we’ve tried everything, right?” “You’ve talked to people,” Yunho acknowledged it. “But maybe you haven’t talked to the right people.”

...

“Captain...” Yeosang’s eyes were the size of saucers. He pinched himself and took a step forward. Hongjoong mirrored it. Three more steps, and they were face to face. “You’re here?” Hongjoong breathed. “I can’t believe you’re here. Why...?” “I was sold,” Yeosang matched his volume, grasping his pale Captain’s arms and blinking back tears. Hongjoong’s mouth worked soundlessly for a moment before he finally uttered the only words he deemed appropriate. “I’m so sorry.”

A hand clamped on to his shoulder. “What are you doing? The fabric merchant is that way.” Seunghyun. Hongjoong knew he had been following him since yesterday, but had hoped for just a few seconds more with Yeosang. He stepped back and out of the younger boy’s arms, following Seunghyun back the way he had come. Yeosang made a small noise of protest at this but watched, eyes damp and hopeful, as Hongjoong turned his head to look over his shoulder. “Tomorrow,” he mouthed. Yeosang nodded vigorously and retreated as well, stepping backwards and fixing his eyes on Hongjoong’s red coat. He watched for any more signals but the Captain simply went about his business, buying the fabrics and leaving the market in the direction of the Fortress. 

“Got everything?” His overseer asked, preoccupied with having his shoes shined. “Yes,” Yeosang answered, glancing once more at the imposing Fortress. “I think so.” What was Hongjoong doing with Seunghyun?

...

“I know you’re talking about me,” Jongho finally said from Seonghwa’s side. “At least let me in the conversation.” Yunho and Mingi looked at each other and sighed. Jongho took that as an agreement and joined them in the corner. “We’re just trying to figure out how to break your curse, Jongho,” Yunho explained. “I’m afraid we can’t postpone finding a solution any longer. A vision could strike at any time and you could forget all of us.”  
“But now is such a horrible time for this—“ “It’s always a horrible time, Jongho. And please don’t feel guilty about it, it’s not your fault at all,” Yunho grasped the younger boy’s hand encouragingly. “What can we even do from inside here?” Jongho countered.

“Actually,” Mingi cleared his throat awkwardly. “It kind of makes me feel useful. It’s still a problem to work out, but at least we’re doing something. Instead of sitting around waiting like we usually are.” He was quiet for a little while, head lowered. Finally he picked it up and admitted himself. “I’m scared. You met me barely a minute after you met Hongjoong. If another nightmare takes you, then... I’m the next one you’ll forget.” Jongho took his hand wordlessly and squeezed it.

Seonghwa sat up on the other side of the room and took in his surroundings. They were still locked away from the light in a drab, stinking prison cell. He placed a soft hand on his stitches. It was the opposite of clean and healthy in here, and he was worried about becoming infected. But the younger boys had noticed he was conscious and were coming over to him, so he forced a smile. “Feeling better?” Yunho was smiling too, an equally fake one. Seonghwa nodded and looked over at Jongho. The boy was downcast again, fidgeting with his hands. “Jongho...?” “You shouldn’t have let him beat you.” Seonghwa put his hand on the boy’s shoulder. “I heard you the first time, Jongho. It’s alright, I promise I’ll be fine.” Jongho finally looked up at him, mouth pressed into a hard line. “Don’t do it again, because you won’t be.” 

“Hello?” An unfamiliar voice was squeaking at them from the other cell. “Hello?” Mingi called back through the wall. “Who’s there?” “M-my name is Junyoung. The prison guard is my father.” A hum of recognition passed though the four prisoners. “Are there many people in the cell with you?” Yunho asked, as loudly as he dared. “About... fifteen,” Junyoung answered. His voice shook a bit. “He sounds young,” Seonghwa remarked quietly, nodding his head at Jongho. “Younger than you, even.” Jongho scowled at him but slid closer to the wall to speak with the boy. “Junyoung, do you know the people in there with you?” There was a pause, as if the boy was scanning the faces himself. “Yes, they’re people from the town, mostly.” 

Jongho raised his eyebrows at Mingi, who also slid over to the wall to converse with Junyoung. “Do all those people know who put them in there?” “Uh... some guards? They came out of nowhere and just started grabbing us.” Mingi shook his head even though Junyoung couldn’t see it. “No, I mean do they know who ordered them to be brought here?” There was another pause before the hesitant answer, “No.” Mingi smiled at Jongho at this encouragement and began to explain, “The man who rules your town and calls himself the Master, he captured you and intends to sell you off, away from your families and lives, and into forced labour. Do you understand, Junyoung?” Junyoung was shocked. “Y-yes. Everyone!” His voice was distant as he turned to the others in the cell. “Listen to this!” 

Just as Mingi intended, Junyoung repeated everything he said to the other prisoners, and the murmur of anarchy began. He continued to feed Junyoung things to say, “Instead of sitting here, wasting away and rotting in our own filth, why don’t we revolt?” He waited for Junyoung to convey his message and then continued, “We’ve all been done a great wrong. We may not know each other, but we’re stuck in the same position. Tomorrow we will have our chance; rise up or die trying. Who’s with me?” 

A cheer broke out before Junseok rushed down the hall to quiet everyone. “Not yet, we can’t give ourselves away!” He waited until the people heeded him and turned to Mingi. “I’ve started with the other dungeon guards. They’re on our side so you can talk freely when they’re around. But I need to spread the message among the higher ranks and that will be... difficult.” When Mingi nodded his understanding, Junseok turned his attention to the neighbouring cell, grasping hands with his son. “I’ve been helping your cause, father,” the boy whispered excitedly. “All the other prisoners are willing to fight now!” “Excellent work, my boy,” tears were brimming behind Junseok’s helmet. “We’ll have you out of here—“ his ears caught a familiar noise and he stood straight up in alarm and he finished his sentence. “—soon.” 

The Master rounded the corner. “Out of the way, guard. The auction is moved up to now. I have needy buyers.” With that he shoved Junseok out of the way and grabbed Junyoung, who was closest to the bars of his cell. Every muscle in Junseok’s body screamed at him to move, to snatch up his boy and hold him tight away from that monster but he didn’t budge, controlling his face with the last of his will. “Come along,” the Master ordered, dragging the fighting boy out with him. Junseok’s panicked eyes found Mingi’s from behind his helmet as he followed the dictator out to watch him sell his son to someone else.

...

Junyoung watched his father’s silhouette grow farther and farther away. The cart he was on bounced up and down with the echo of his father’s whispered words as he led him to his new owner. “Find the pirates.” It seemed as if his new owner had also bought some friends of his prison neighbours. He sat in an empty, tattered shack until around noon, waiting for overseers to come and test him, and peeked out of a hole in the boards at some other boys he saw working.

Wooyoung felt eyes on him as he handed a board up to San, who was repairing the roof of the shack, from a ladder that leaned against the side. He was beginning to feel uncomfortable and, finding no success surveying the landscape, glanced at the inside of the shack. An eye stared, unblinking, through a hole in the wood. He yelled and clutched the ladder making it fall over. San gasped in shock as he topped over with it, a loud crack ringing out as he landed wrong on his leg. “What’s your problem?” He yelled through gritted teeth. Wooyoung rushed to his side. “Someone inside the shack.” 

The boy he had seen staring ran outside to see the damage he had caused. “Oh, I’m so sorry! Is it broken?” He waved his hands around San, trying to figure out what to do with them. Wooyoung grabbed and stilled them. “I think so. At least the bone stayed beneath the skin. Help me get it back into place?” Junyoung paled but did as he was told and held down San’s shoulders while Wooyoung gripped the mangled limb and shoved the bone back into its spot with one clean push. 

San yelled out and immediately bit his lip as his bone snapped back into place and cracked loudly. He took a gulping breath and collapsed back into the dirt. Wooyoung sat back, wiped the sweat off his brow, and smiled at the boy. “Thank you...?” “Junyoung!” The slave replied. “What can I call you?” “I’m...” Wooyoung paused for a moment, considering whether he should divulge such information. “Wooyoung. Jung Wooyoung, and this is San.” 

“Do you perhaps know,” Junyoung checked that they were truly alone and leaned in. “About any pirates here?” “Pirates?” San piped up from the ground. “Why are you asking?” “There were pirates in the cell next to me, some of their friends got sold here and father told me to find them so they can help me escape when the riot starts, and—“ “Hold on!” Wooyoung lifted a hand to stop the snowballing explanation. “What are their names?” He just had to be sure. It could be some kind of trap he was walking into. 

“I didn’t catch them. The one that spoke to me; his voice was very deep.” San squinted at him. “And what did they look like?” Junyoung shrunk even further into himself if that was possible. “I didn’t see... we were separated by a wall.” San and Wooyoung raised their eyebrows at each other. San was slightly shaking his head. “But,” Wooyoung whispered. “What harm can come from telling him?” “So you are pirates!” Junyoung was starstruck. “I’ve always wanted to sail in a ship.” San softened at this, patting the boy’s head while he accepted Wooyoung’s arm. “Maybe we’ll let you on ours when we take it back,” Wooyoung smiled and guided San back to the ladder, trying to keep weight off his bad leg. Junyoung looked exceptionally pleased, and watched the two reposition their ladder and scale it, impressed. “We have to get back to work,” Wooyoung went on. “But I think we’ve decided we like you. Let’s just say, we’re offering you quarter.”

...

The heartbreak in Junseok’s eyes when he returned took a piece of Mingi’s heart with it. He simply reported that Junyoung was at least sold to the same man that owned their other three members and changed the subject.

“Your Captain should be back by now. I’m afraid even with him in on this, we need something substantial to start the fire. Seunghyun. He’s the chief enforcer; dispatch him, and the people won’t be afraid to rebel.” The gears turned in Seonghwa’s head. “Captain should have close access to him since he’s staying in the mansion now. Perhaps if he kills Seunghyun the spark will ignite?” Junseok nodded in agreement. “It’s time to end the Master’s reign of terror.”

“Lucky,” Mingi grumbled. “I wanted to kill Seunghyun.”

...

Yeosang looked like he had seen a ghost when he came back to the shack that night to Wooyoung and San chatting with a young boy he didn’t recognise. “What is it, what’s wrong?” Wooyoung picked up on Yeosang’s puzzlement the moment he saw him. Yeosang beckoned them to the corner away from the stranger and whispered, “It’s Captain. We saw each other in the marketplace.” Chaos erupted.

“How is he? What did he tell you? Are you going to plan an escape together?” Yeosang lifted his hands to stop the barrage of questions. “I don’t know, we didn’t really say anything. He seems fine, I suppose? His hair has grown. I don’t know what to tell you, nothing much happened. We just saw each other, and he mouthed ‘tomorrow’. I think he wants to meet then, somehow.” 

San sucked in a breath. “Yeosang, he can help us escape!” Yeosang wasn’t as excited as San thought he should be. “No, we still can’t go anywhere until I get that curse off you.” Wooyoung frowned at him. “Well, you’re at least going to meet him, right?” Yeosang nodded in approval. “We could use the news of what’s going on at the Fortress,” he admitted. “About that,” Wooyoung smirked at him. “This boy, Junyoung, he knows Mingi and the others! He said they were planning another escape but he was sold and now he’ll have to escape with us.” Yeosang looked over his shoulder at the aforementioned slave boy who was pretending not to eavesdrop and nodded reluctantly. “Alright. But the priority is still ending the curse. I was distracted by seeing Captain and didn’t buy everything I should have for the potion. I’m going to have to figure out some way to get to the market again.” 

It was enough for San, who nodded and lay back to go to sleep. But Wooyoung was unsure. “There’s something going on with you, isn’t there?” He asked quietly. Yeosang scoffed and turned away but didn’t deny it. “Are you upset with Captain?” Wooyoung kept pressing for answers. “Just leave it be, Wooyoung,” San whispered and tugged him down to sleep. But Wooyoung watched Yeosang from the corner of his eye. If they were divided like this, they were as good as dead.

...

Hongjoong sat through another dinner and breakfast with Seunghyun’s envious eyes boring holes into him and the Master and his wife chatting about some mundane topic. He didn’t speak a word, and wasn’t spoken to so didn’t have to. Only one guard accompanied him to the harbour, and to his surprise the man removed his helmet and began to speak to him. “My name is Lee Junseok, I’m in league with your crew members. We are planning a rebellion to break everyone out of the Fortress and take back control from the Master, are you in?” 

He nodded yes after a brief argument with himself and pulled the guard toward the marketplace. “I found my friend who was sold off a few days ago and told him to meet me here, same time as yesterday. I think we should get him in on it, too.” The two of them waited outside the bread stall for about ten minutes. Hongjoong kept a wary eye on Junseok, still unsure how fully he could trust the man, and another eye out for Yeosang. 

Sure enough, Yeosang appeared and warned them they had little time. “I convinced my overseer to have different pair of shoes shined now, so we can speak freely for a few minutes. Who’s this?” Junseok introduced himself and asked if his son Junyoung had found them in the slave shack. Yeosang answered in the affirmative but immediately became uncomfortable at the sight of the wound in his neck. “You’re the guard that I—“ “Stabbed with a fork? Yes.” Junseok crossed his arms but his face was unreadable. “Are you sure we can trust him?” Yeosang mumbled in Hongjoong’s direction. “That’s our only option,” The Captain answered before diving right in. “You first, Yeosang. What have I missed?” 

Yeosang rubbed his hands together uneasily. He didn’t really want to talk about it, but the clock was ticking against them and the information was relevant. “The Master trapped me in a glass box for a couple of days after we were separated. I tried to escape once, using a fork to stab...him,” here he winced in Junseok’s direction. “But it didn’t work, and I was sold.” “Your new owner,” Hongjoong spat the word out like a despised vegetable. “What manner of man is he?” “He hasn’t revealed much but I know he is a sorcerer. He has a big book of enchantments in his study and casts spells on his slaves that prevent them from running away. He’s always buying more daily. He just bought Wooyoung and San the other day.”

“They were sold after the second escape attempt,” Junseok explained to Hongjoong. “The one you were in on.” “Right,” Hongjoong sighed. “And the others?” “Still in the dungeon,” Junseok continued. “But I have a hunch that the Master plans to sell them soon before they cause any more trouble for him.” Hongjoong was dejected at this, and asked for more news of the members. “The youngest one— Jongho, I think?— his prophetic dreams are getting out of control.” Hongjoong and Yeosang sucked in a breath at the same time. Judging by their reaction, Junseok figured it would be better not to bring up Seonghwa at all. “What’s he forgotten now?” Hongjoong rushed straight to the conclusion.

“You, it seems.” Junseok tilted his head in sympathy even as he admitted that he didn’t understand the situation. “Mingi said something needed to be done as soon as possible about it. And they were discussing ways to break the curse...” Yeosang hummed at this. “Another curse to break. I could take a look at the spellbook and see if there’s anything for dream curses. But the rebellion, how are you going to start it?” 

Here Junseok scratched his head hesitantly. “We’re going to need you to kill Seunghyun tonight, Captain.” “What?” Hongjoong felt like he’d been slapped across the face. Junseok rushed to defend himself, “He’s the chief enforcer, with him out of the way and the other guards on our side, the Master will have no choice but to surrender. It’s very important that Seunghyun be killed tonight. I don’t know how you want to go about it, but... you’re our best bet.” 

Yeosang nodded, even as Hongjoong sighed and shook his head. “No, it makes sense,” the navigator insisted. “When the prisoners are released, be sure to come find us, if we don’t find you first. I’ve got to get back with these ingredients and break the slave spell, or it’s impossible for Wooyoung, San, and Junyoung to leave the estate.” He turned to go, but Hongjoong laid a hand on his shoulder. 

“I’m sorry about what happened to you, Yeosang,” he told him quietly. “But you can trust me. I’m going to fix things now, I promise.” Yeosang shrugged off the hand but looked back at his Captain. “Alright. I’ll trust you.” With that, he was gone. Junseok averted his eyes from the whole situation, not wanting to be mixed up in whatever was going on between the members. “What now?” He asked as they turned and left the market. Hongjoong turned in the direction of the shipyard. “I have a ship to finish.”

...

“And when someone yells ‘boom about’ if you don’t hit the deck then you can guarantee you’ll be swept off the side.” Wooyoung was filling Junyoung in on all the joys of sea life while he sat and watched them work. “Really?” The boy’s eyes sparkled up at him and it made him laugh. “Yes, really,” San piped up, taking over from a giggling Wooyoung. “Happened to me once.” “Junyoung! Junyoung, I need your help!” Yeosang suddenly rounded the corner of the shack, surprising the boys and almost making them fall off the ladder again. 

“What is it?” The new boy asked, shaken out of a happy moment. “You haven’t had a spell cast on you yet, right?” Junyoung shook his head. “Excellent! When you’re brought to the study, I’ll be there working but I need you to distract the sorcerer long enough for me to steal a page from his book, do you think you can do that?” Junyoung nodded, fear settling into his gut. “There’s a brave lad!” “What’s all this about?” Wooyoung asked as Yeosang started jogging back to the main house. “It’s for Jongho’s curse.” Again, chaos erupted. “Jongho?” “You spoke with Captain?” “Yes, I’ll tell you later!” Yeosang yelled over his shoulder before he was out of range. Junyoung watched him go, amused. “Does he always run around like a headless chicken?” 

As Yeosang had said, some overseers came for Junyoung around noon and brought him to the study. A tall bearded man rose from his armchair and approached, squinting down his long nose at the squirming slave boy. Behind him, Yeosang stood silently from his seat at the writing desk and crept over to the book, flipping for a moment until he found what he must have been looking for and beginning to rip out the page.

The droning incantation serving as background noise, Junyoung followed Yeosang’s movements with his eyes, heart pounding in his chest. All the owner needed was to turn around and they were done for. The page was almost out, just one more tear and they would be safe. It caught on the seam of the book, hanging on for dear life and so Yeosang gave it a firm tug. The ripping sound was just loud enough to reach the sorcerer’s ears. 

As he began to turn around, Junyoung panicked and screamed. The man struck him across the face and began to yell about how he should be silent and submissive before sending him away. Junyoung had one last glance at Yeosang before being dragged out. The page was pocketed and he was safe in his seat. He smiled. He had been brave and saved a pirate. Wait until Father hears about this...

Yeosang gulped back his nerves as he picked up his pen and watched the sorcerer sit down again from the corner of his eye. That had been painstakingly close. But worse, he had seen what was on the page. And Hongjoong was not going to like it.

...

The hour had come. Hongjoong dropped his fork and stood from the dinner table. Everyone looked at him in confusion but he kept his resolve and directed his words to Seunghyun, “I challenge you to a duel.”

“What’s this?” Hongjoong could tell it was only mock surprise by the spark in his eye. “You’ve been itching for a rematch, don’t pretend otherwise. Your jealousy at the Master’s favour for me is palpable from a mile away.”

Seunghyun growled and snatched his gun from his belt. “Come now,” The Master groaned, setting his wine glass back on the table. “What’s all this pettiness?” For once in his life Seunghyun ignored the man. “Shall we cut to the chase and use blunderbusses?” Seunghyun sat back in his chair and twirled his gun, acting like the responded to challenges every day. “I don’t have time for this, I’d like to go to bed early tonight. Someone else will have to clean your blood off the floor.” “Seunghyun!” The wife tutted at him as if he were a child caught misbehaving. “Well?” Seunghyun scoffed. “Is it to the death or not?” Hongjoong nodded. “I let you walk away last time, but I’m afraid I can’t do that tonight.” He held out an open hand in the Master’s direction until the older man sighed and signalled for a gun to be brought. “If you truly insist on going through with this.”

The two participants stood back to back in the ballroom, guns at the ready. “I’m going to blow your brains out,” Seunghyun whispered cheerfully. “Not if your aim’s as bad as your fencing.” At the drop of the Master’s handkerchief both marched out the required number of steps and turned around. There was the tiniest millisecond of stillness and then— bang! Both weapons discharged. A burning pain radiated through Hongjoong’s arm. When he squeezed his eyes open again he caught sight of his own shot lodged in Seunghyun’s core. Pain exploded through his arm as he rushed forward and caught his opponent’s fall, numbed into oblivion at the sight of his ripped skin. Seunghyun let out a low gasp, a late reaction as he realised he was about to die. “I had to,” Hongjoong’s voice shook.

Seunghyun said nothing, but stared straight at him. Haunting eyes boring into his soul, engraving themselves on his mind as they clouded over. A few drops of blood slid from the slightly opened mouth and the last breath shuddered out. Hongjoong carefully lowered the body to the ground, struggling to avert his eyes from the intensity of Seunghyun’s own lifeless ones. Feelings churned inside him. Remorse, relief, regret... There was probably noise but he didn’t register it, only the hair rising on his neck from the eyes that accused from all directions, until a pair of hands was around his arm, pulling him away from the scene and onto the balcony. The air was sweltering but inside he felt only ice.

It was the Master’s wife, rubbing his arm and trying to get a response. Hongjoong turned and looked back into the house, dreading the Master’s reaction. The man had knelt next to the corpse, and was closing those piercing eyes. Hongjoong swallowed back his fear as the Master lifted his head to look at him. A bitter smile appeared on his face. “Well done, my boy.”

Hongjoong started, stunned that the man was praising him for this, and looked for an exit. Anywhere he could escape to, and just be alone with his thoughts for a moment. He turned and examined the view off the balcony. It was several floors down to the garden, but maybe... “I’ll draw a bath for you.” The woman finally left him but her stifling presence was replaced by the Master’s as he approached the balcony. Hongjoong was already shaking his head in terror. “Don’t be upset,” the Master shushed him. “There wasn’t enough room for the both of you.” Hongjoong opened his mouth to deny him but again, couldn’t find the words nor the will to. “I told you that deep down you are a killer.” Of its own volition, Hongjoong’s head lowered. When he raised it, the Master was gone. There was blood on his hands now, but worse, it had been the Master’s plan all along. 

Hands were pulling at his arm again, and he stumbled after the wife as she led him to the tub she had prepared. He shed his coat and slipped his shirt off, sinking to the floor and grabbing onto it to steady himself. The sting of a cloth washing his shoulder wound was ignored and the nonsense the woman was spewing as well. He didn’t care what she had to say, he had only himself to wrestle with now. Murder such as this was foreign, no matter how many ships he had blown up in the past. The chief enforcer was dead, and a rebellion was brimming to the surface. 

“I had to do it,” Hongjoong repeated quietly to himself. “I had to.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The first death!! More will follow D: So annoying how the Master twists everything to his advantage, huh. Please leave some love and comments!


	8. Second Mutiny

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Junyoung was breathing too loud, so Wooyoung covered his mouth with his hand. “Shh!” Footsteps were gaining volume outside. “Someone’s here!” San was peeking out at the door. Just a few more steps and they would have him. Yeosang counted down, just a hair louder than his own breathing. “Three, two, one, NOW!”

Mist riddled damp air, a wall of humidity to push through as Yeosang ran from the mansion to the shack. He was relieved to see that Junyoung made it back in one piece and he could tell the others were relieved as well, sensing that they were impressed with the younger boy’s quick thinking in the sorcerer’s study. As the other slaves in the room retired to their makeshift beds, the four pirates sat up discussing their plan for tomorrow.

“We should take a hostage.” Wooyoung raised his eyebrow at San. He hadn’t expected the suggestion to come from him. “Well!” San lifted his hands in defence. “They can still shoot at us, even if the slave curse is broken. But not if we take one of them with us.”

“And what do you propose we do with a hostage once we reach the dock? Bring him with us?” Wooyoung played devil’s advocate without thinking twice. “We can just throw him over the side of the ship once we get far enough away from shore if we need to. Or if Captain has a better suggestion—“ “No, I like yours just fine,” Yeosang suddenly cut in at the mention of Hongjoong. Wooyoung gave him a look over Junyoung’s head that was ignored. 

“Also, don’t you think it would be a better idea to join the others in town for the riot instead of just head straight to the ships?” San wanted a taste of the action for himself, but not at the expense of all their freedom. Wooyoung thought about it for a moment before sharing his thoughts. “I say only if they need our help. We have Junyoung to look after, remember?” The younger boy smiled up at him and tilted his head. “I wouldn’t mind going to town with you.” 

“No, Wooyoung’s right,” Yeosang sighed. “It’ll be dangerous, we should only go if necessary. The others will meet us at the dock as soon as they can.” Yeosang shook his head at Wooyoung almost too subtly to be noticed over Junyoung’s head, a clear indication that he intended for them to discuss it later, when their younger friend was asleep. There wasn’t much left to be said after that, and so the time soon came for Yeosang and Wooyoung to shuffle over to the corner for their private conversation.

“That’s how I felt when you came aboard,” Yeosang mentioned casually, noticing Wooyoung’s eyes trained on the sleeping Junyoung. Wooyoung’s ears burned scarlet. “Come now, I wasn’t that young and inexperienced.” “No, but you were at least as eager to please.” Wooyoung rolled his eyes and redirected the conversation. “What was it you wanted to talk about?” “You should go to the town and help tonight. There’s an armoury, I’m sure they’re stocked with gunpowder and you’re the one that knows how to use it. San and I can take Junyoung and this information—“ he pointed to the stolen spellbook pages in his pocket. “—to the dock and wait for the others.”

San scooted over to their corner at the mention of his name. “That leaves only two of us to handle the hostage. And also, I think you forgot to invite me to your secret conversation.” He pouted at them, and Wooyoung had to suppress a giggle. Yeosang sighed. San was hardly any less childish than Junyoung. “My apologies,” he conceded. “We can’t let Junyoung know. He’ll get himself into trouble if he goes to town. He already played his part in this, that’s enough action for now.” Both Wooyoung and San nodded in agreement. “As for the hostage, if you rest up your leg I think the two of us can take him.” San, contented with this excuse, returned to his makeshift bed. Yeosang was about to return to his when Wooyoung grabbed his arm and turned him around.

“I think there’s something else we should be talking about.” Yeosang played dumb, but Wooyoung tilted his head forward and muttered in a low voice, “Captain. What’s your problem with him?” Yeosang shook off Wooyoung’s arm once again but didn’t turn away. “It’s none of your concern. It’s just— he broke his promise.” Wooyoung was confused. “He said he wouldn’t let anything happen to me. That he’d always come for me, when I called.” Wooyoung’s brow furrowed in distress as Yeosang went on. “Well, I did call for help, Wooyoung. I screamed, and I begged, and I pleaded. But he didn’t come. And now, even if he is on our side, he’s not the same. He’s different. The Master did something to him.”

Wooyoung sat back, astonished. “That’s impossible, he’s the most stubborn person I know.” Yeosang shook his head at the ground. “Everyone has their weaknesses, Wooyoung.” A stifling silence fell before Yeosang gained the courage to go on and confide the truth. “The pages I found in the spellbook to heal Jongho’s curse... they seem to point to that thing around your neck.” Wooyoung’s eyes widened and his hand flew to the crystal hidden under his clothes. “This? How?” 

Yeosang pulled the wrinkled pages out and examined them in the lowlight. “When a magical object, magical weather, and magical creatures are present all at once strange things can happen. That crystal key has mysterious but incredibly strong power, and I wouldn’t put it past the thing to cast a curse in Jongho’s mind.” Wooyoung turned the small crystal over in his dirt smudged fingers. “And what, do you think destroying it is the answer?” He looked up in a panic at Yeosang, who remained dead serious. “I do. But it’s going to be more difficult than you think.”

...

Reality returned with a sting when Hongjoong’s head finally stopped spinning. A breath hitched in his throat as alcohol was dabbed over his bleeding shoulder. He finally yanked his arm out of her iron grip. “Just go away.” The woman opened her mouth but seemingly thought better of it, gathered her things and left him.

Tension drained from his body as he released the breath he didn’t realise he had been holding and climbed into the water. It surrounded him in its protective arms while he got his bearings again. His face was already wet, and he realised he must have been crying at some point. “What’s wrong with me?”, he thought with a shake of the head. Phase one was complete. It was a success, killing Seunghyun was a success. This was a good thing. And yet...

“There wasn’t enough room for the both of you.” Leading Hongjoong down a bloody path, grooming him into the image of himself— that was the Master’s plan all along. Hongjoong glanced at the door and swallowed. Would the man offer up his own wife as the next sacrifice? It would explain why she was serving him, to preserve her miserable life. There was a twisted and complicated relationship between those two, he had sensed it from the beginning. But it was no use speculating. If he could just avoid her and her manipulation with bought time, he wouldn’t have to think about anyone in this convoluted household again.

Some time went by, enough for the water to turn red, before Hongjoong drained it and escaped to his room to bandage himself up. His hands were soft and wrinkly from soaking for so long, and he frowned at them before hiding them under the scratchy little blanket on his bed. Junseok would be relaying the good news of their success to the members imprisoned in the dungeon. Mingi would be jealous. Jongho’s eyebrows would shoot to the top of his face. Yunho wouldn’t say anything but be very curious as to how it unfolded. Seonghwa would understand immediately and smile through the pain. 

Hongjoong sighed. He wanted to see everyone’s sleeping faces before he dived under the covers and turned out the lights. He wanted to be sure they were all doing fine without him, that they weren’t dead or sold or worse... giving up on him. No, Seunghyun was dead. Phase one was complete. There was a riot on the horizon and an escape on the morrow. His ship was waiting in the harbour and his men were ready to take it back. Hongjoong scrubbed the tear tracks off his face and blew out his candle.

...

“It was quite the scene.”

Junseok’s words bounced around in Yunho’s head as he tried to fall asleep. The guard hadn’t given the gory details but had provided them with a thorough account of the incident in the ballroom before informing them that Seonghwa was to be sold the next morning and then retiring for the night. And now Yunho couldn’t sleep. He wondered how Seonghwa could, but then again, the lingering pain of his punishment may have knocked him out. Mingi snored next to him and Jongho’s breathing was... uneven. “Jongho, are you awake?” He whispered at the dark figure on the floor next to him. The boy turned silently to face him and nodded solemnly. “I don’t want to sleep. Might have another vision... might forget someone else.” 

“Jongho...” Yunho sighed. “You can’t do that to yourself. You know whether you’re awake or asleep makes no difference. It can’t be good for you to stay up.” Jongho’s breathing slowed slightly. “I know, but... there’s nothing else I can do.” The boy wanted to say more but began to feel choked up and didn’t want to wake the others. He didn’t need to, he realised, as he was pulled into Yunho’s warm arms and held there, against his will. Jongho eventually relaxed into the hug and exhaled his worries. Yunho was right there for him if anything went south, that much was clear.

Daylight didn’t reach the dark corners of their cell, but all four boys felt it breaking over the Fortress and woke with the sun out of habit. Seonghwa did some stretches to strengthen his body and relax his mind as he began to dread the auction they all knew was coming. “It’s alright,” Junseok had said. “Most likely the same man who has bought the others will outbid the rest. You can just escape with them this evening during the riot.” But how many slaves did one man need? Albeit a rich man. It was pure coincidence that the other four had all ended up together, and as much as Seonghwa wanted to hope, he could not rely on the uncertainty of an auction.

Seonghwa voiced these thoughts to Junseok when he came midday to bring their meal and inform them that only a handful of guards remained loyal to the Master. “If you want to escape before the auction, you’ll need to do it before nightfall. He’s having another party tonight, to celebrate the life of Seunghyun or whatever lies he wants to feed the upper class.” he noted, sitting down and conversing with Seonghwa through the bars. “And breaking out of the glass box at the wrong time will get you killed.” “But first blood has already been drawn,” Seonghwa argued back. “I can get upstairs and find Hongjoong. Any risk we take may lead to death, but that’s no reason not to take it.” Junseok didn’t need much time to think. “Alright, I’ll trust you on this. But if the timing doesn’t work... I’m afraid you may have to face the worst possibility.”

An hour later, he was dragged off and locked inside the box. The clock was ticking, and phase two was underway.

...

Yeosang wanted to wait until midday, when the slaves were all assembled in their shack for the meal, to lift the curse. While he asked around to confirm that everyone was indeed present, Junyoung sidled over to Wooyoung.

“What hair colour would you give me if I was a pirate?” Wooyoung looked down at the expectant boy and frowned. “Junyoung, I know you want to come along with us but your father won’t approve, I’m sure.” “You don’t know that,” Junyoung countered with a frown to match. “Just answer the question.” Wooyoung ruffled the boy’s hair. “Do you want to try purple like me? Maybe we’ll give you platinum hair— or silver so you look like an old man!” Junyoung giggled at Wooyoung’s suggestions. “How about multiple colours! We’ll just put every dye we have in there. Blue, red, green, purple...” 

“Quiet now!” Yeosang shushed the increasing giggles and rejoined them. “I’ve got everyone’s attention, let’s begin.” He snatched a bowl from under one of the ceiling leaks and emptied it of rainwater before roughly measuring out some exotic looking ingredients and mixing them with a stick. “It won’t taste nice, but it’ll break your invisible chains. Then we make for the town and tear down the Fortress.” Yeosang passed the bowl around for each worn down slave to take their sip and wrinkle their nose. When it got to Wooyoung, he could smell the ripeness of the serum wafting up and swallowed back his gag reflex to take a drink. Immediately, the heaviness in his legs began to melt away. He passed the bowl to Junyoung and looked at San in astonishment. “I think this potion worked.”

“Only one way to find out,” San whispered back. A hush fell over the group as Yeosang took the last drink out of the bowl and made a face. “Well,” he said when he was able to force his eyes back open. “Do we have any volunteers?” It was all quiet while the slaves looked around the group, hoping for some brave soul to step up. “I’ll go,” Wooyoung sighed. “Someone has to.”

He made his way to the doorway and checked that the coast was clear. They had only a few minutes before the overseers would return and put them back to work, and he needed to make those minutes count. Yeosang was at his side. “You remember which road leads to town?” Wooyoung nodded with feigned confidence, but Yeosang pointed it out anyway. “Jog to the village and back. Then we’ll be sure it’s safe for all of us to leave the perimeter.” 

San watched him go and bit his lip. Chances needed to be taken for this endeavour to succeed, but he didn’t like the watching and waiting. Ten minutes slid by like sand slipping through an hourglass at a leisurely pace but finally a purple head of hair popped up at the end of the road and raced towards them. “It works,” Wooyoung reported breathlessly when he was back indoors. “It works.” Legs shaking with anticipation, the slaves of the sorcerer’s household ventured out onto the road that would lead them home for the first time in years. Yeosang held Wooyoung, San, and Junyoung back and pulled them into a corner. “We ambush the first overseer we see and run with him,” he instructed. Junyoung gulped back his fear. It was time to make their move.

...

Evening was descending on the anxious members in the prison cell. Seonghwa should have broken out of the glass box hours ago. Rich couples from the island were on their way and the auction to kick off the party would begin any moment now. Poor Seonghwa had been tapping the glass with the single nail he had smuggled out of the crevice in the dungeon in an effort to crack it and escape. 

He slipped the tiny tool back into the palm of his hand when the Master and a few loyal guards came in to wheel the box into the ballroom. It was very disorienting, being tilted back in his glass cage as the guards rolled the hand truck up a secret passage into the main mansion. The light pouring in from floor to ceiling windows was blinding to eyes that had adjusted to the pressing darkness of his cell. No one paid him much mind after he was dropped off in the centre of the room, and went about their business preparing the space. A guard was scrubbing a blood stain out with bleach.

The Master walked off into a parlour and, with the eyes of the guards busy cleaning the ballroom, Seonghwa took a step so that he was pressed against the back of the box and resumed tapping on it with the nail concealed in his hand. He kept a hawklike watch on the activity in front of him while digging the small metal point in as ferociously as he could get away with. He was beginning to feel some progress happening when people filtered into the room. Wealthy slaveholders in their suits and gowns, clinking champagne glasses and making small talk. The Master reentered in his finery.

“Shall we begin?”

...

Junyoung was breathing too loud, so Wooyoung covered his mouth with his hand. “Shh!” Footsteps were gaining volume outside. “Someone’s here!” San was peeking out at the door. Just a few more steps and they would have him. Yeosang counted down, just a hair louder than his own breathing. “Three, two, one, NOW!”

Together they jumped out and tackled the overseer just as he stepped into the room. “Cover his mouth!” Yeosang grunted as he pulled his hands behind him. San obliged, leaning down and growling in the man’s ear, “Look who’s the slave now.”

“Wooyoung, go ahead like we planned.” Yeosang nodded at him and he hurried down the road after the mass of escaped slaves, ignoring the look of confusion on Junyoung’s face. “Mr. Sorcerer is not going to be happy when he discovers everyone gone,” San mentioned. “We had better move.” Restrained between San and Yeosang, the bewildered overseer stumbled along down the road, Junyoung trailing behind. 

They were almost to town when Yeosang realised which overseer they had kidnapped. “You’re the first one assigned to me,” he thought out loud. “The one who tested my writing.” He had younger features than some of the others, and was less experienced looking. The man squinted at him through a sheen of sweat and nodded. “You sly little scoundrel! You used that to your advantage, didn’t you? Well, you’ll never all get away,” He spat out a manic chuckle in San’s direction. “There’s a spell cast on the rest of you. It’ll kill you to try.” With one strong pull, he threw off their constricting arms and sprinted down the road in the direction of the town.

“Catch him!”

...

“Pull harder, Jongho!”

“I’m trying!”

Jongho’s hands were wrapped like magnets around the rusty bars of the prison cell he’d been rotting in for weeks now. Since Seonghwa had taken their escape tool, his strength was all they had. He felt excruciatingly close to freedom and let Mingi’s words of encouragement wash over him in his attempts. “Come on, we’ve been stuck in here for too long! You’re tired of being under his thumb! You want to taste the sea again! You want the wind on your face! Pull harder, Jongho, you can do this! Pull!” With a yell, Jongho gave it all he had and the bars bent out of the way, separating just enough for him to squeeze through. 

“Woah!” Yunho’s eyes were dinner plates as he examined the damage done by the bare hands of his junior. “No one’s going to believe this!” He and Mingi slipped through the bars and snatched the keys from an empty guard post at the end of the hallway. “Alright, neighbours,” Mingi riled up the fellow slaves as he unlocked their cells. “We have a party to crash.”

...

Yeosang’s heart hammered in his ears. San was lost somewhere behind him, struggling to keep up in the chase because of his injury. A shame, Yeosang thought. He’s the fastest of us. The overseer turned suddenly and tripped his way down a stone staircase towards the market in the centre of town. Yeosang took the stairs in pairs and passed the overseer, whipping around and trapping him. 

The heat was rising off the stretch of cobblestone street between them, a shimmering barrier separating the panting runners. They sustained a cautious eye contact, neither making any sudden movement as they circled each other. “Where will you go? Back to the sorcerer?” Yeosang offered words but didn’t put much feeling behind them, electing to place every ounce of focus on the volatile overseer’s movement. A drop of sweat slid down the back of his neck. It was just the distraction the man needed and as Yeosang took a millisecond to swipe it away, he took off in the opposite direction. 

Yeosang sped after him, legs pumping explosively as he chased past fallen crates and jumped over spilled rugs towards an intersection of roads where the major hill of the island bent down to the docks. Two produce carts collided in front of him and he barely managed to avoid flying fruits. He halted suddenly, body catching up with his brain a moment later, and scanned the area. The overseer was nowhere to be seen. He kicked himself mentally but didn’t have a chance to do anything about it before San caught up with him and grabbed his shoulder, whipping him around. “That way!” He pointed down a tight little alley where the overseer was scaling a dangling drainpipe and flew after him, clambering up onto the roof in two quick movements and leaving Yeosang in the dust.

With every pound of his feet on tile, the pain in his broken leg jolted San’s senses. He began to slip as he crossed onto the other side of the roof. His feet made contact with the drainpipe and he springboarded off it, tucking and rolling to the next roof. Hot breaths wrenched out of his lungs, he snatched a look ahead at the fleeting figure escaping him. San pushed harder, the rhythmic thunk of his shoes speeding up too. He was gaining on him. 

The man disappeared down into a gap between buildings. San dodged the chimney in his way and peered over the ledge. The overseer was sprinting away, back in the direction they had come. “He’s looping back!” San screamed down to the street, praying Yeosang would hear him, before turning back and running across the rooftops.

Yeosang heard San’s yell and followed the voice to the direction of the building he was perched on. The wide eyes of the overseer found his own through a crowd of people. They had arrived at the marketplace. Yeosang threaded through the bodies in pursuit, ignoring their cries of disapproval. As much as the overseer shoved his way past the masses, they were slowing him down. Yeosang squeezed between two people and extended his arm, snatching the back of the squirming overseer’s shirt. “I’ve got him! I’ve got him!” The man twisted his way out of the clothing and slipped out of his grasp. “I lost him.” 

Yeosang struggled past the last group of market goers just as something passed over the sun. He turned and looked up. It was San, flying overhead from the roof before crash landing on top of the overseer. Yeosang was fairly sure he heard a crack, but dashed over and picked them both up off the ground. “Now I’ve got him,” he panted, pulling the groaning overseer’s arms behind him while San slowly got to his feet. “Good job,” the younger muttered, with a dark look. “I didn’t help at all.” Yeosang smiled at him and laughed. “Of course, thank you, San. Let’s get him back to the dock.”

...

A spiderweb of cracks was fanning out from the nail, now embedded in the glass behind Seonghwa’s protective hand. The party guests were munching on hors d’oeuvres while the Master announced their surprise entertainment for the evening. Seonghwa’s jaw dropped as Hongjoong entered the room and walked over to the piano. His eyes were glued to the glass cage in astonishment as he slowly sat on the bench. The Master cleared his throat and Hongjoong turned his back obediently, taking a deep breath and beginning to play. Seonghwa’s breath fogged up the glass as notes descended in light, twinkling harmony as if nothing was wrong. 

A quick scan of the room for the sorcerer Junseok described proved useless, as a man matching the description was nowhere to be found. He wasn’t there. Seonghwa had no choice. He waited for the crescendo of the song, before slamming the nail into the glass behind him. The final blow. Glass rained down, and prisoners flooded into the room.

...

The seaside village was in utter chaos as soon as the sun set. Escaped slaves from a variety of places had roused the other townspeople to throw off their invisible chains in revolt against the Master.

This was what Wooyoung was comfortable with. Gunpowder, fuses, and firing strategies. Not magic or prison breaks. He made quick work of the guards once the rioting villagers knocked the door down for him, and headed straight to the barrels while the rest armed themselves. It was another uphill climb to the Fortress gates but he kept his prize at the front of his mind. Breaking the others out. Bringing down the Master. 

He stowed the barrels all around the complex at carefully chosen structure points to bring down the load bearing walls. It was empty of guards and other personnel, the reason unbeknownst to him being the riot happening indoors. After he had created a powder trail he watched the sun dip into the sea. “God, I hope you’re all out of there,” he whispered, striking the match. He lit the powder and took cover. It was too late to reverse it and they were out of time.

...

One minute everything was normal, the next the party was being overtaken. A hand closed around Hongjoong’s wrist as he lifted it off the piano keys in surprise and tried to pull it back before realising. It was Seonghwa. “Come on!” Shattered glass crunched underfoot as Seonghwa dragged the leader into the next door parlour. There were a million things he wanted to say but Hongjoong settled on, “This wasn’t part of the plan!” “The plan adapts with us!” Seonghwa panted, leaning forward every few seconds to peek out the doorway where fighting had broken out. “Are you alright? Did he beat you? He did, didn’t he...” Hongjoong took Seonghwa’s hand and tried to meet his eyes. “I’ll be fine, but we need weapons or we’re no good to the others.” 

“What’s that?” A voice from behind them made their veins freeze over. It was the Master. “No weapons? This should be easy then.” His hand shot out and pinned Seonghwa’s throat to the wall, choking him despite Hongjoong’s begging that he stop. “Don’t kill him,” Hongjoong pleaded. “I’ll do anything, just please! Leave them alone.” The Master turned his sneering face towards the boy. “You’re just a broken person leading other broken people. That’s where the cycle ends, there is nothing for you beyond that. Let the boy die and you’ll realise I’m right.” “No, you’re wrong!” A glower returned to Hongjoong’s own eyes. “I said—“ his fist reeled back... “You’re wrong!” ...And slammed into the Master’s head. 

The man toppled to the side, clearly not expecting the blow, while Junseok, Mingi, Yunho, and Jongho raced into the room. Mingi and Jongho kept the already reeling Master pressed down onto the floor while Yunho ran to a gasping Seonghwa and rubbed his back until he nodded he was okay. “Here,” Junseok handed Hongjoong his sword. “He’s yours.” Hongjoong took the blade with shaking hands and stilled it. The Master looked up with his trademark smile at the approaching Hongjoong. “It’s the final test, my son.” Jongho and Mingi looked up, confused, but their captain understood. A storm had broken on his face, wildly conflicting emotions colliding in his eyes. 

The final test. What would it mean if Hongjoong killed both the servant and the master? Did that make him the new Master? He didn’t know anything for sure, but he knew he wanted no part in that man’s legacy. He could feel everyone staring at him and turned around for a stolen moment of privacy. “Everything I’ve said about you has been proven correct,” the Master singsonged from behind. “If you have it in you, come and kill me too.” Hongjoong screwed his eyes shut and squeezed the hilt of the sword. He just couldn’t. “Mingi,” he said, turning around and offering the blade. “You can take him. I know you wanted to kill Seunghyun.” Mingi jumped up and took the sword gladly, giving it a little spin and catching it. 

“Goodbye, old man. Your reign of terror has come to an end.” And in a single stroke he sliced off the smirking devil’s head. “Ew!” Jongho whined, jumping back from the body as it collapsed. “The blood spurted on me.” Seonghwa glanced at the mess, disgusted. “Junseok, if you wouldn’t mind staking the head up outside so everyone can see who has won.” Junseok was stunned into silence but took his sword back and picked the lifeless head up from the ground, holding it at arm’s length and running outside with it. “It’s finally over,” Yunho exhaled, helping Seonghwa to his feet. 

“I think not.” It was the Master’s wife, standing in the doorway with a gun aimed at him. They only had enough time to gasp before everything exploded.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anyone still reading this? Let me know what you thought <3


	9. The Escape

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Once the deck was empty and everyone was elsewhere, Jongho emerged and went to the crimson stain on the boards of the deck. He brushed his hand over it. Just like his dream. The seeping blood, the fiery revolution, the thunderous chorus. He sunk to his knees as the feeling of slipping through the endless bloody whirlpool returned out of his nightmare.
> 
> “Why do I have to be right?”

“There she is!”

In a remote corner of the marina, one special ship was moored to the dock piling, bouncing good-naturedly and waiting to be boarded. San again ignored his still healing leg and sprinted the last few steps up the gangway and threw his arms around the main mast. “Oh, I’ve missed you!” Yeosang dragged their hostage over before securing him under the main grating and taking a step back to admire his home. “They didn’t damage her, at least.” He ran his hands along the side railing and sunk happily to a seat on his favourite barrel. 

“Oh, what do you think they did with my box beds?” San gasped before disappearing below decks and then returning with a massive grin. “They’re still here! Everything’s still here! Captain’s going to be so happy...” Yeosang tuned him out as a strange feeling washed over him. The sun had dipped out of sight, moonlight rising to take its place. But something was wrong. Yeosang bolted upright. “Where’s Junyoung?”

...

When the smoke cleared, the building was collapsing.

The floor had opened up into the dungeon which had also opened up into some secret cavern beneath it that waited for them, an endless black hole to plunge into. Luckily, all the members had managed not to fall three stories and had grabbed onto something. The Master’s wife clung to the balcony as it was tilted up from the sinking centre of the fortress. Hongjoong was the closest to her, having been able to grasp a chunk of the tile that was still partially attached to the rest of the room. He took a quick inventory and concluded that other than his hands being a bit singed he was fine. Below him, he could hear the others struggling. He risked a look.

“Seonghwa!” Seonghwa was slipping a few feet away, none of his grabs for freedom making any purchase. “Here,” Hongjoong extended his right hand to him, making sure his hold on the floor was still secure. Seonghwa stretched his own hand out toward him, reaching as far as he could without losing his balance before shaking his head. “You’re too far away.” Hongjoong lowered himself another foot into the chasm and strained even harder, fingers brushing Seonghwa’s. 

A chorus of yells broke out below them and they both looked down. “Don’t move any more, Captain!” It was Mingi, blinking sticky blood out of his eyes and grabbing his forehead with one hand. He and Jongho were directly underneath him, clinging to each other and a ledge of tile that bent down into the darkness. “You’ll bring the rest of the floor down!” Hongjoong looked back at Seonghwa, heart sinking. “You’ll have to jump.” Seonghwa groaned and prepared himself to take the leap. Hongjoong’s knuckles were white around the chunk of floor he gripped in anticipation. 

With a yell, Seonghwa’s feet pushed off and he flew through the air before Hongjoong’s hand closed around his wrist, halting his fall. Hongjoong’s sudden cry surprised him as he swung, and he almost let go instinctively, but the clenching hand stayed firm. Seonghwa looked up. Blood was trailing from Hongjoong’s shoulder. The trail reached his hand and made it slippery for Seonghwa to hold on to. “What— you got shot!” He remembered Junseok’s report. Hongjoong didn’t answer but gritted his teeth and scanned the debris for Yunho. “He’s over there, unconscious,” Mingi supplied, following his eyes. All four of them gasped as they realised Yunho’s soot-covered form lay directly in the path of debris that had just been loosened by Seonghwa’s jump. 

Sweat broke out on Hongjoong’s forehead as he fought to keep his hold on the swinging Seonghwa, whose momentum was beginning to slow down. “Stop trying to pull me up,” Seonghwa cautioned. “Down is the only way to go.” “I can’t see the bottom,” Jongho reported, crawling to the edge of their platform and timidly peering through the decimated dungeon floor. A scraping sound from above startled him and Mingi had to pull him back. “What was that?” The taller boy stood to his full height and craned his neck to see. “That’s the piano.” 

“Oh no,” Hongjoong whispered as the gentle humming of the sliding piano above grew in volume. “Let go!” Seonghwa yelled up to him. “It’s going to crush us!” Hongjoong winced at him, still unsure, before taking a deep breath and releasing his grip. It was a rough landing, but Mingi and Jongho softened it, pulling him and Seonghwa onto their shrinking ledge. Not a moment later the piano tipped over the side of the floor above them and slid stutteringly down the debris, headed straight for— “Yunho!” 

Yunho was jolted awake by the presence of something very large inches from his face. Panting, he opened his eyes to discover himself in between the legs of a grand piano. He stifled a scream and turned his head to the side where the voices of the others were. “I’m alive! I’m alive!” He reassured them. “But I have no idea how I’m getting out of here. My leg is pinned.” 

Jongho steadied himself and made his way over with painstaking care, grasping the bottom of the instrument and trying to lift it high enough for Yunho to wiggle out. “Come on,” he grunted. “I’m not letting you lose your other leg.” Yunho flopped over so that he was on his stomach and grabbed the piece of wall closest to him, trying to pull himself out. He had cleared his upper half when the entire surface suddenly began to move. The debris was all hurtling down now, in rockslide fashion, toward the chasm in the middle of the space. Yunho screeched and retracted under the piano as half of a sofa barely missed his head. 

“Nobody move!” Mingi yelled from the other side of the growing hole. He was right, any movement would tip the precarious balance and send furniture and worse down on them. “The only way is down,” Seonghwa repeated. “But there’s nothing there,” Jongho yelled back from where he squatted, trying not to move the piano he was lifting any more than he had. “I can hear water,” Yunho piped up, squinting into the abyss. “If there’s water down there it has to exit somewhere,” Hongjoong thought out loud. “I say we jump. But let’s just try to stick together.” 

Jongho nodded and, with a cautionary glance up for raining furnishings, gave the piano one final tug to release Yunho’s leg. The second he was free, all five boys took a deep breath and plunged into the void.

...

“No it’s your fault, not mine! You let the hostage get away!”

“But you didn’t have to chase after him, too! You should’ve stayed with Junyoung!”

“Hey, I’m the one who caught the hostage. Admit it, I’m faster even if I am injured! You should’ve just let Junyoung go with Wooyoung!” The moment the words left San’s mouth, he faltered as if struck. “Go with Wooyoung... maybe he went with Wooyoung!” He made a beeline straight for the village but was stopped by Yeosang. 

“Don’t!” 

San turned and stared daggers at him, waiting for an explanation. “We just got here,” Yeosang gritted out. “You’re still injured. Trust that Wooyoung will take care of him, and if you must go, then fine. But I’m not about to go back out there and risk losing our last chance to get off this awful island.”

His words struck a cord in San. Yeosang had a new edge to him and he wasn’t entirely sure how he felt about it. It was true, they’d been stuck here for far too long. San was a man of action, he didn’t like sitting around waiting for someone else to solve their problem when he could be helping. But as much as he hated to be sidelined, he had to admit Yeosang had a point. He settled back down grudgingly. 

“Fine. I’ll keep a lookout.”

...

The explosion at the Fortress had plunged the seaside town into further panic. Rioting villagers flooded from house to house with flaming torches raised, gathering more angry citizens to march with them to the wealthy slaveholders’ residences.

Wooyoung threaded his way through the masses as he followed the last traces of sunlight to the shoreline. His instinct to evade the problem and get himself to safety was conflicting with his worry over whether his crew was out of the collapsing building. The others should all be at the ship already, right? They must have broken out with the crowd of prisoners that tore down the Fortress gates in their escape before the explosion. Perhaps they were somewhere in this crowd with him. He began scanning the faces that blurred around him, but no one he recognised was anywhere in the vicinity. As he descended the hill of the main street one familiar pair of petrified eyes met his own. 

“Junyoung!”

The boy didn’t hear him over the clamour of the citizens. Wooyoung pushed nameless figures out of his way, fighting to reach Junyoung. He was crouching at a street corner with no idea where to go. “Junyoung, what are you doing here?” The boy startled but relief washed over his face when he realised it was Wooyoung’s arms pulling him up. “M-My father, I came to look for him.” Wooyoung turned to search the crowd again. “Do you think he could be in this mob somewhere?” “I haven’t seen him,” Junyoung’s voice was faint and scratchy with unshed tears. 

“You should have stayed with San and Yeosang,” Wooyoung knew he sounded harsh but concern was gripping him. “They took off to catch the hostage. But they won’t set sail until your Captain and the others come, will they? I think my father is still in the Fortress.” Junyoung reasoned, clearly terrified that his father could be under the sinking pile of rubble that was now the Fortress. Wooyoung’s eyes swept the marina, just down the slope of the hill and easily within reach. The ATEEZ was docked and ready. He could return Junyoung there, to safety, in a few minutes. But if Junyoung was right, the rest of the crew wasn’t out of danger yet. Wooyoung chewed his lip a bit too roughly and tasted bitter blood on it. “Alright, let’s go back and find them. But stay close to me.”

...

Mingi came up spluttering in the darkness, hand closed around someone’s arm. “You can let go,” Hongjoong nudged him between coughs. But the Captain was smaller and still shook with pain from his shoulder so Mingi wasn’t inclined to. “You’re not leaving us again.” “Yunho?” Seonghwa threw his hair back as he surfaced. “Did Yunho get unpinned?” Both Jongho and Yunho came up together and began treading water, as if in answer to the question. 

“What is this place?” Jongho queried between gasps. “Some type of underground pool,” Mingi suggested. “The better question is why they built a fortress on top of it.” Seonghwa felt around in the water until he came to Yunho’s side. “It’s impossible to see anything down here,” Yunho was complaining, struggling to hang on to Jongho and kicking the water with his good leg. “Hold on to each other,” Hongjoong suddenly stilled and the others followed his lead. The gentle tug of a current emerged and they swam after it. 

“Wait!” Hongjoong threw up his hand for them to halt. The scraping sound from earlier had returned. “Piano!” The pianoforte, it seemed, had followed them in their journey down the wreckage, and with a thrum came crashing into the water where they were just about to swim. Hongjoong watched it sink, heart in his throat, and carefully moved forward. Ivory keys popped to the surface behind him. “Well that was a close call!” Yunho whined from the back of the group. Mingi chuckled darkly. “We specialise in close calls.”

Thankfully, it wasn’t far to go before the underground pool gave way to land. It was the cold, harsh land of a cave, but the five boys lay on it panting in reprieve just the same. Seonghwa checked Mingi’s forehead wound the best he could with only touch to rely on while the others collected themselves and inspected their surroundings. “Something’s wrong,” Hongjoong breathed, mostly to himself. Water that hadn’t been around his feet a moment ago was now where his ankles were. “The water is still rising!” He informed the others. Jongho joined him and listened intently to the sounds of the cave. “It’s pouring in from somewhere faster than it’s pouring out.” 

Yunho had hobbled over as well. “We’ll be out of air if it continues for much longer at this rate.” Seonghwa studied the section of cave they were in with his hands. “This was a secret passage,” he announced. “I was brought to the party through one like it. But it’s been blocked by rubble from the explosion. If we clear this, we may find a way out.” It was enough of a chance for the crew, and they lined up to pass the chunks of stone from person to person and blaze their own escape trail. Mingi kept an eye on Hongjoong when the water rose to neck level, and helped keep his shorter frame afloat while juggling the debris that Seonghwa handed to him. 

Fatigued muscles groaned, aching wounds protested, and stamina slowly depleted as rock after rock they dug their way to freedom. Soon enough the water was lapping at Jongho’s chin and he needed a leg up from Yunho to keep digging away at the blockage. “I think we’re close,” he grunted through clenched teeth, feeling around in the dark for an opening between bricks. His hand fell on a loose rock, and he gave it a strong tug. That did the trick. “Watch out!”

All the members stepped back as stones rushed past them on their own, finally clearing the way for the stream of water to drag them out through the newly made hole with it. When they picked themselves up where the current dropped them, their hands were gripping grass. Mingi blinked at it.

“We’re out.” Out. They hadn’t seen the sky in days, nor felt the wind embrace them, nor smelled the sea. Violet and orange painted the horizon in a magnificent display. It brought tears to Mingi’s eyes to see liquid gold-tipped waves reflecting the village’s torchlight and stretching away as far as the eye could see. The boys helped each other to their feet and took a nice long look at it, paying no mind to the chaos engaging the town that separated them and their ocean. Hongjoong swallowed and pointed to the dock. The ship he had just finished building was up in flames, set ablaze by some mindless rioter with a torch. Anxiously he searched for his own vessel, and found it to be unharmed and fastened to a far corner of the marina. A real smile broke out on their faces as they began to walk towards it. 

“Stop right there!”

It was the woman again. From the still intact balcony she had gripped while the Fortress collapsed, she pointed a gun at them. Jongho could tell she was at close enough range to make a lethal shot. “Let’s strike a deal. Hongjoong stays to rebuild and the rest of you may go.” Seonghwa didn’t give him a chance to open his mouth, directly addressing the Master’s wife. “We’ve had enough of you and your cordial intent.” She turned slightly and trained her sights on him. “No talking unless you’d like to get shot in the face. As I was saying, those are my conditions or you all die.” 

“But they just got out!” It was Junseok, back from his errand staking the head in the centre of town. “They go free, that’s not a suggestion.” His gun was now pointed at the wife, and hers wavered between him and Seonghwa in despair. They were at a standoff. “Look, I don’t really know who you are or why you’re here,” Hongjoong began, locking eyes with the woman’s wild ones. “But you don’t belong here any more than we do. You don’t have to carry on the Master’s wishes. He’s dead now, that means you’re free too. Just like us.” Her weapon began to lower as regret appeared on her face. “Put the gun down,” Hongjoong crooned. “You aren’t a slave anymore.” 

“Father!”

It was Junyoung running up the path to meet them, and his temporary guardian Wooyoung trailing behind. Everything happened lightning fast. Junseok turned at his son’s voice, which startled the woman into discharging the gun. Two shots rang out, one bullet lodging in the back of Junseok’s head. And the other in the abdomen of his son.

No.

NO

Wooyoung’s legs couldn’t carry him fast enough. He caught the dazed boy just before he hit the ground and checked the wound. It was bad. Heart pumping furiously, he gripped Junyoung’s shoulders and begged him to stay with him. Junyoung furrowed his brow in confusion. The pain hadn’t kicked in yet. As he turned his head to see the motionless body of his father it dawned on him. 

While the woman was distracted, Jongho scooped up Junseok’s weapon and fired a round at her hand. Her own gun clattered off the balcony, three stories down to the pointed rocks below. She watched it fall and looked with new eyes at the burning town in front of her. Everything was on fire. Everything her husband had worked to create. It was the end. 

She scooped up her skirts with one hand and used the other to climb onto the railing of the balcony. “No, no, no, wait!” Hongjoong ran towards her. One look at her face told him what she intended to do. She shook her head and flashed her manufactured smile at him one last time. “You played beautifully, Hongjoong.” The song had ended, and there was nothing left for her. “It’s over.”

She stepped off the balcony, and plummeted to the ground. Hongjoong squeezed his eyes shut from the view of the horror before him and stumbled back numbly. The others had gathered around Junyoung to stop his bleeding, after trying to help Junseok and discovering he was already dead. If not for Jongho’s steadying hand on his shoulder, Wooyoung thought he would vomit there and then.

“Take me to the ship.”

Mingi delicately lifted the boy into his arms and began the procession to the ATEEZ, a long overdue march they had hoped would be under better circumstances. Hongjoong avoided Seonghwa’s attempt to throw a comforting arm around him and moved to the front of the group, desperate for some space to process in. The crowded streets parted down the middle and quieted into stillness for them as they made their way down to their frigate, heads bowing left and right at the sight of a young dying boy.

An ecstatic San emerged from the smoke to meet Hongjoong when they reached the dock. “You need a haircut.” San smirked at him. “Don’t start with me,” Hongjoong scowled but the facade was quickly shed as he grasped him in a hug. “What’s going—“ Yeosang looked past him at the sad procession following. “—on. Junyoung?” Hongjoong nodded grimly. Yeosang forced down a shaky swallow, grief washing over his face. Mingi had the limp, but still breathing, body in his arms as he strode up the plank and onto the deck of the ATEEZ. “He’s been shot,” he informed Yeosang, in case he had missed it, grave voice like grinding stone. “I can still hear you,” Junyoung whined. San gasped and dropped to his knees next to the boy as he was lowered onto the deck. 

All eyes were on him as he executed a quick medical assessment. Making sure Junyoung wasn’t looking, he raised his head and shook it slowly. “I’m going to die now, aren’t I.” Junyoung heard his answer in San’s silence and sighed almost wistfully. “I’m happy to be here regardless.” There were strained smiles all around the deck.

“Junyoung, do you—“ Yeosang paused to clear his throat. “—do you know everyone?” Junyoung furrowed his brow in thought. “You’re Yeosang, Wooyoung, San,” he nodded to each member. “And are you...Jongho?” Jongho nodded in surprise. Junyoung smiled, proud of himself. “I remember you’re the youngest, that was a guess. And...you’re Mingi? You have a deep voice!” The tips of Mingi’s ears turned red. “The rest, I don’t know,” Junyoung admitted before they all indicated themselves. “Welcome aboard, Junyoung,” Hongjoong finished the introductions. 

It was surprisingly calm. The riot had quieted to extinguished flame and settled citizens. Seagulls were cawing as they swooped low over short choppy crests which sparkled in the moonlight. An amiable breeze rocked the ship gently, its wooden skeleton creaking a familiar tune to all but one. “So this is what it’s like?” Junyoung’s eyes were starry as ever, even as they filled with tears. He directed his question to Wooyoung, but the latter couldn’t risk opening his mouth and letting a sob escape. “Yes, it’s...this is our ship,” he whispered, squeezing the boy’s hand. It was already growing cold. “Let’s bring you to be near your father, Junyoung,” Mingi made a move to scoop him up but Junyoung shook his head slightly. “No, I want to be here. I’m getting off this island and sailing away like I always wanted.” 

Hongjoong opened his mouth to order for the anchor to be lifted but Junyoung was looking at him imploringly. “May I?” Hongjoong flashed a phony grin and nodded. “Loose the handsails...” Junyoung’s voice was just above a whisper. “Heave the capstan.” All but Wooyoung and the Captain left to obey the orders and set sail. Junyoung’s gaze shifted from the unfurling sails to Wooyoung’s tear streaked face. “I’m sorry, I just don’t want—“ mangled words caught in his throat. “—I don’t want you to go, I mean you just got here, and...” Junyoung’s smile faltered. “I’m afraid, too. But it’s alright, it’s just part of the adventure, isn’t it?” Wooyoung nodded swiftly. “Junyoung, you’re the bravest person I know. And I’m so sorry I couldn’t protect you.” Junyoung’s bitter smile returned and he squeezed Wooyoung’s hand. “Commit me to the sea.” “With highest honours,” Hongjoong agreed, before looking up at the receding shoreline. “We’re moving along nicely now. How do you like the wind in your hair, Junyoung?” 

“I love it,” the boy answered, closing his eyes for the last time. Wooyoung sat there and looked at his face for a long while. Long after the body had grown cold and the coast had shrunk behind them, Seonghwa helped him up and over to the railing so he could feel the wind on his face again. He wanted badly to be able to cry but part of him was still in disbelief that Junyoung was in fact dead and it was his body that Hongjoong and Mingi were wrapping in leftover cloth and preparing to send over the side. He stood there, a mixed up bag of emotions sitting in his stomach, as the cannons fired a full salute and the body was committed to the sea. It was such a slight, lanky body. And then he returned to Yeosang’s side because he knew he couldn’t sleep in their room without him. Yeosang was just sitting on deck and looking at the sky.

Stars burned in the heavens. They were distant pinpricks lighting the way, a map engraved in the sky to navigate by. They were the gateway to the possibilities in the east. Wooyoung saw Yeosang’s fond regard for the beacons and looked up himself, examining the heavens for answers. Finally, he spoke. 

“I’m so full of thoughts and I just... I just don’t know how to say any of them.” Yeosang nodded in his peripherals, quietly encouraging him. Wooyoung worked through what he wanted to say as it tumbled out. “Is it always like this? I mean, I know the world is a dangerous place, but... why does it seem like it’s always out to get us?” 

It wasn’t at all what Yeosang expected to hear, so it took him awhile to gather his own thoughts. “Partially, I think it’s our own doing. For pushing the boundaries of the known world a little further everyday and daring to stand up to anything that opposes us. But, yes, the world is a dangerous place. And it doesn’t like being beaten by savage lowlife children like ourselves, so it makes itself even more dangerous.” “We’re the only ones who know,” Wooyoung finally tore his eyes away from the sparkling show above them, tears slipping out of the corners. “How brave Junyoung was. We have to carry his legacy with us.”

Yeosang felt the prick behind his own eyes and grasped Wooyoung’s shoulder. “We will.” He pulled him into a tight hug, and it lasted until the moon set and they mutually decided to go to sleep. Wooyoung couldn’t help but look over the side of the ship on the way to his near forgotten quarters. Junyoung’s body was buried there in the graveyard of the sea.

...

Once the deck was empty and everyone was elsewhere, Jongho emerged and went to the crimson stain on the boards of the deck. He brushed his hand over it. Just like his dream. The seeping blood, the fiery revolution, the thunderous chorus. He sunk to his knees as the feeling of slipping through the endless bloody whirlpool returned out of his nightmare. “It was Junyoung.” Yunho had snuck up on him somehow, despite owning a peg leg. Jongho didn’t look at him but nodded. “I didn’t know it was him. I just knew it would happen. Why do I have to be right?”

Hongjoong was putting his desk back in order in the Captain’s quarters. He hadn’t slept in his own bed since he had died in it and come back. Then he had been dragged off and kept away— away from his ship and his crew. He knew for sure that it wasn’t good for them to be apart. If there was one thing he took away from that horrible, horrible place it was that he would never let them be separated again, as long as they wanted to be together.

There was a knock at the door. It was Mingi’s knock, Hongjoong recognised it without an announcement. “Come in.” Mingi entered and plopped down in a chair, simply sitting there and looking around for awhile. His head wound was all cleaned up and other than looking a bit spooked he seemed alright. But Hongjoong knew he wasn’t as fine as he let on. “They both worked so hard to liberate their island. And they don’t even get to see it. Would it have been better if I kept my mouth shut? Would they be alive?”

Hongjoong finished making the bed and sat down across from Mingi. “Alive, perhaps, but enslaved for generations to come. I don’t know about you but I’d rather be dead and free than behind bars for the rest of my life.” 

Mingi scratched at the surface of the desk with his fingernail. “The townspeople... will they hate us for leaving at a time like this? We started their revolution and now we’re just sailing away from it.” Hongjoong sat back with a sigh. It did feel like running away, but the problem was never theirs to begin with. “We don’t belong here. There’s nothing more we can do and I’m done putting lives on the line.” There was a companionable silence after that. It seemed the carnage was over for now, and that meant moving on to new things.

“Our heading, Captain?” Mingi could barely contain his glee at being able to say those words again as he hopped out of his seat. “I don’t care,” Hongjoong kicked his feet up on his desk and let his eyes fall shut. “Away from here. Let’s all just breathe uninterrupted for awhile.”

“Aye aye, Captain.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was.... very hard to write. And I’m sorry if it was too heavy handed for you this time around. I wrote what I thought would be an appropriate end to this storyline given the characters’ arcs. Rest assured, there’s some time to breathe next chapter. Please send your thought and kudos <3


	10. Northern Waters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He was singing while he worked, and the tune lingered on, a broken melody to the memory of the ninth member that never made it to open ocean. Sleep descended on him despite his uneasiness and the deep oblivion of prophetic dreaming returned to its work.

The worst typhoon of the summer stirred in the east and hurtled at top speed towards the small coastal town of a twelve year old Hongjoong and his parents. All three were holed up in their freshly painted fishing boat, a much loved vessel of their livelihood. They were almost embarrassingly proud of the thing, but as it tossed with all the fortitude of a toy boat, the ugly head of the storm reared in judgment. It had seemed like an excellent idea to chase down the inexhaustible school of fish that would surely secure their wellbeing for the rest of the season once reeled in and sold, until the winds picked up and the heavens parted for the rain. 

Hongjoong was in his mother’s arms, protected from the raging elements that battered them, but he had half a mind to squirm out. He was raised on these waters, he and his father had weathered many a storm before. The small but determined boy was certain he could help get the boat under control if he could just squeeze out and... he froze in place. His mother’s breathing came out in a short gasp, and he followed her gaze as she whipped her head around to the bow. She was the chief navigator of the ragtag crew and she had been searching the skies for the stars that would reveal their position in the vast tossing sea. “What is it?”

“We’ve drifted back to the shoreline.” Oh no. Their hometown was on the northeastern coast of the continent, where a perilous maze of lurking boulders in the water lay in wait, often obscured at high tide and dangerous in even the most insignificant of squalls. A pair of eyes landed on him from through the ocean spray. Hongjoong was confused what they were doing there, but soon his mother had released him to yell the warning to his father, over the din of crashing waves and howling wind.

Left alone, Hongjoong was gripped with sudden fear and shot to his feet to join his parents. A wave breaking over the ship tipped him forward, the deck spinning in front of him as he planted face first on it. A cracking sound resounded at a sudden jolt from behind. They had grounded. Hongjoong reached out his hand as he stumbled back to his feet, reaching for his mother. She had turned and seen him trying to make his way over but couldn’t come back. A massive crack split the ship across the middle, separating them. “Hang on!” She yelled across to him and he heeded her, wrapping his arms around the mast and hugging it for dear life. 

Rain mixed in his eyes and he squeezed them shut before he crest of another wave slammed into him. The snapping sound was muffled, distorted in the water, but Hongjoong heard it clearly and felt his half of the ship sweep away through the rocks and towards shore. He took a rushed breath before being plunged into the sea and tossed around by the breakers. Something made contact with his head and he blacked out. It was always inky blackness before the blinding sun.

Hongjoong awoke with a start. Something was wrong. The memory he had just dreamed was one that had followed him for years, but this time something was off. Some convoluted detail. He threw off his blankets and shot out of bed, pacing the room. Only the few precious moments he was working through now would be left to him as the dream faded from his waking mind. The boards creaked under his bare feet as he turned swiftly back the other way. His hands were in his hair, tugging mindlessly in a half hearted attempt to pull the apparition from his brain. San’s right, the thought nudged the back of his mind. I could use a haircut. He focused his bleary eyes on his feet, blinking the sleep out of them. 

Eyes. Eyes! That was it— the eyes watching their boat from through the churning waves. Someone watching them? But that didn’t make sense, no one else had been out that day. No one else would be crazy enough to take up the challenge of the sea in its deadly dance. Then, why was Hongjoong seeing visions that didn’t exist? Now of all times. A pair of eyes veiled in the tempest, invading a dream that replayed one of his darkest hours, a private moment that was the last with his family.

He heaved a sigh and collapsed back onto his bed. What did it matter? They were still gone, and he was still there. It was supposed to have been far enough back in the past that he had gotten over it, he shouldn’t be dwelling on that incident anymore. But the eerily familiar eyes stuck themselves to a corner in the back of his head where, unflinching, they kept him thinking until sleep returned.

Daylight filtered through the multicoloured glass of the window, patterning the floor and landing on Hongjoong’s closed eyes. They fluttered open and gazed at the miscellaneous shards fused together ages ago, feeling so much like home that the events of the past couple of weeks were pushed to the back of his mind. He rose with a sigh and threw his coat on before going outside. Hands on the rail of the quarterdeck as dawn broke over the ship, a familiar sensation returned to him. It was almost as if everything was back to normal. If he just pretended they had never left in the first place, maybe the Master’s voice would get out of his head. 

“Captain, sir?” It was Jongho, sitting up from where he scrubbed at the blood stain on the main deck. Hongjoong was surprised to see him, but Jongho explained. “I took Mingi’s watch. I can take yours, too, if you want.” Hongjoong took the stairs down and joined him. That wasn’t right. “Jongho, you should go to sleep. I’ll take care of this.” Jongho pierced him with bloodshot eyes. “No, sir. If I get a nightmare, I’ll forget Mingi next.” Hongjoong gently took the sponge from his hand. “Call me hyung. And don’t you worry about forgetting anything, because we’re going to take care of it, alright?”

Jongho looked like he wanted to argue, but couldn’t very easily disobey his Captain, even if he didn’t remember who he was. He relinquished the sponge and water bucket and began to trudge back to his room. 

He was singing while he worked, and the tune lingered on, a broken melody to the memory of the ninth member that never made it to open ocean. Sleep descended on him despite his uneasiness and the deep oblivion of prophetic dreaming returned to its work.

...

Seonghwa was dragging a chest of belongings, a few blankets, and his hammock into the captain’s quarters when Hongjoong came back in from his watch and stopped in his tracks. “What’s...all this?” He blinked at the older boy from the doorway. Seonghwa didn’t look up. “My things.” Hongjoong rolled his eyes and closed the door behind him. “I can see that, but why?” “I’m moving in,” Seonghwa informed him nonchalantly, neatly tucking in the blankets and adjusting the pillow. 

Hongjoong wasn’t sure what to say, so he simply placed his hands on his hips and waited for an explanation. “Everyone else has a roommate,” Seonghwa finally threw over his shoulder. “I want one too. And besides, it’s awfully stuffy in the kitchen.” Hongjoong took a cautious step closer, suddenly suspicious.

“You’re in here to keep an eye on me, aren’t you?”

Seonghwa got defensive. “Where did you get that idea?”

“Yeosang has barely spoken to me since we got back. He put you up to this, didn’t he?”

“Hongjoong, this is just me looking out for you. There’s no plan. What, you think we’re conspiring against you?” The hammock was left forgotten now. 

“No, I—“ Hongjoong landed in his chair. “I just mean... he... I just...”

Seonghwa was by his side, leaning down to catch his gaze. “Hongjoong,” his voice was soft, and Hongjoong didn’t like how close to his ear it sounded. “I don’t know what happened in the Fortress but I’m willing to leave it there. If there’s a problem with Yeosang, why don’t you go talk to him?”

Hongjoong gave him a look. He was very reluctant to stir the pot any more than he had, especially since he couldn’t be sure Yeosang’s iciness towards him wasn’t imagined. “In fact,” Seonghwa continued. “We all ought to have a talk. Let’s eat together and plot our course, hm?” By plotting a course, Seonghwa didn’t just mean a literal one. There was a lot of unspoken tension and as much as Hongjoong wanted to sail away from it, he knew it wouldn’t just disappear. “I insist,” Seonghwa stood up straight and slapped the surface of the desk good-naturedly. “Let’s go.”

...

After pulling the kitchen table out on the deck to eat their meal, Hongjoong looked around at his tired crew. They had put the pieces of themselves together overnight, and while no one was fatally injured, recovery wouldn’t be swift and easy. San’s leg was splinted, Hongjoong didn’t know why but he figured he’d get the answer out of Wooyoung. Yunho’s good leg was also bandaged from having a piano on top of it, and he still limped around from place to place. Hongjoong made a mental note not to have him in the topsails. Jongho was absent, hopefully catching up on sleep.

Seonghwa had refused a bandage for his leaky stitches, and when San came at Hongjoong with a new bandage to replace the tattered one on his arm, he tried to refuse as well but wasn’t heeded. “I want to hear all about how this happened,” San remarked casually as he wrapped the cloth around Hongjoong’s shoulder gently. “I want to hear all about how that happened,” Hongjoong nodded at the younger boy’s leg and noticed the blush that fanned over his cheeks. 

As the other members assembled, he frowned at the red around their eyes. It was unclear whether it was from lack of sleep or crying, but Hongjoong decided not to comment on it and ask about the state of the ship. “Seunghyun and his men didn’t touch our backup supplies or our secret stores, so we have enough to last us quite awhile, especially without a crew to feed,” Mingi reported. “He really was a dunce, wasn’t he?” He snorted as an afterthought. “Is there somewhere we can stop when we do run out?” Hongjoong directed his question at Yeosang before realising most of the navigator’s maps had been stolen in the mutiny. San interjected, “Even if there is, it won’t be friendly. Geobugi was the last pirate haven in the east.” Yunho cleared his throat and added sheepishly, “And speaking of Geobugi...our entire crew is still there and I may or may not have promised we’d return for them.”

“Ah,” Hongjoong sat back with a sigh. “I guess we had better keep that promise, then.” “It’s a couple of days away,” Seonghwa remarked after swallowing his bite. “We’ll need to split duties and watches to function without a full crew. And if we run into any enemies...” “Let’s hope we don’t run into any enemies,” Wooyoung groaned. “Most of my ammunition is gone, and the cannons will be virtually useless without hands to man them.” “Our lives are in our own hands then,” Mingi exhaled loudly. “If we keep a close enough watch, we can evade any trouble that comes our way.” Hongjoong nodded at this and finished his bread. “And we’ll drop off our hostage when we arrive. Company dismissed. Yeosang... if you wouldn’t mind sticking around.”

The others rose and took their empty plates to the kitchen obediently, but Yeosang folded his hands in his lap and kept his nose pointed down. “Is there something I can help you with?” It was courteous, modest, and yet dry. Much drier than what Hongjoong was used to from the navigator. “First, let’s discuss Jongho’s situation.”

“Right.”

“Right.”

Yeosang cleared his throat and reached into his pocket spread the crumpled pages in front of his Captain. He had been expecting Hongjoong to try to offer excuses for letting him be sold, so the somewhat lighter topic was welcome. “You’re going to have to destroy that crystal. In this cave on this island.” He pointed out the crude drawings barely visible over the wrinkled parchment. If Hongjoong was surprised at this, he didn’t show it, and instead called, “Wooyoung?”

Wooyoung definitely wasn’t loitering around to catch what snippets of the much awaited conversation he could, but when he was summoned he appeared at breakneck speed. “Yessir?” “The necklace,” Hongjoong extended his hand for it. Wooyoung pulled it out from under his shirt. It had lay there next to his heart since it had been entrusted to him. There was a part of him that didn’t want to part with the thing, having become accustomed to its weight and presence, but orders were orders. 

Hongjoong stroked the crystal with his thumb the moment it was back in his hand. “Do you know what this is?” Wooyoung shook his head slowly. “The key to Eden’s treasure.” The gunner’s eyebrows shot to his hairline, despite Yeosang’s “I told you so” smirk. “How did you come by it?” “He gave it to me,” Hongjoong answered, voice soft and thoughts distant. “For safekeeping. The same reason I gave it to you. When we set out to retrieve his treasure, we were ambushed by the Navy. That day that I last saw him, before we were separated, he gave this to me with the words ‘Meet me at the final destination’.”

“And you’ve been chasing him ever since.” It made sense now to Wooyoung in a way it hadn’t before, and he couldn’t help but wonder what the Captain would decide to do next. The other two were quiet again for just long enough for Wooyoung to recognise the cue to leave. He did so happy to have gained some understanding, but yearning for more, and decided to visit San.

...

A sound at the door jolted Jongho awake. He could see a tall figure in the shadow on the floor and his whole body tensed with anticipation. As if he had been invited in, the blue haired intruder swung the door wide and strolled over to Jongho.

The younger boy wasted no time. Flying off the bed, he tackled the unsuspecting stranger and gave him a blow to the face. Words were spilling out of the invader in a panic but Jongho gave him no time to explain himself, twisting his body into a hold until he stopped struggling. “Who are you?” Jongho gritted out. 

“Mingi! It’s Mingi!” The blue haired one gasped. “Jongho, you know me!” Jongho squeezed the lanky stranger tighter. “How do you know my name?” His heart was pounding in his ears. What was this random person doing coming into his room to attack him? Was this the hostage Yeosang said he had taken? Had he escaped and come to murder everyone? “I’m your friend,” Mingi was struggling to get the words out around the blood pouring from his nose. “I think you’ve forgotten me.”

Oh.

Jongho dropped Mingi back onto the floor and scurried away in terror. He had just woken from a nightmare when the door had opened, and nightmares meant memory loss. There were two people he should remember sailing this ship now. He turned back to where he had released his apparent roommate to attempt to say something but the boy was gone, only a few drops of blood left on the floor. Jongho bit his lip as he wiped up the mess with his handkerchief. It was alarming how fast he was losing things. More blood and more strangers.

...

“Yeosang, we should talk.”

There it was. He knew his behaviour hadn’t gone unnoticed by the Captain, but he didn’t want to address it. He didn’t want excuses or apologies. “Say whatever it is you wish to,” he sighed in defeat. “It’s not a statement, it’s a question,” Hongjoong tilted his head in frustration. “Why won’t you trust me?”

Yeosang’s lip quivered suddenly. He didn’t want to relive that dungeon of a glass box but even the thought of the Fortress transported him there and trapped him again. His vision clouded but he sent a bitter glance the Captain’s direction. “You played the piano without a care in the world while I was dragged back into that glass prison they kept me in to display me, like a toy. Do you really think I’m not justified?”

“But, Yeosang—“

“You asked me for a second chance in the marketplace. Wanted me to trust you to fix everything. But it wasn’t a ship, Captain, it was a normal town. Those were civilians, not pirates or soldiers. They became warriors in the moment because they had to, but they had lives to live that are lost now. Families to go home to.”

It dawned on Hongjoong while he was speaking. Yeosang was upset that he was sold, yes. But he was also thinking of Junyoung. Hongjoong inferred it but didn’t utter the name, instead focusing on the spot of deck that was scrubbed clean of the boy’s blood. “If you had just walked away from the Master and his promises,” Yeosang went on without prompting. “We wouldn’t have had to involve the entire population in a rebellion that cost in lives.” The tears were sliding out now, hot and angry as they raced down Yeosang’s cheeks. His voice was remarkably steady. “You were supposed to be strong for us. We sent you in to kill Seunghyun and march out victorious, not fall even more into the lies those serpents fed you. Was it too difficult to think about us?” Yeosang was directly addressing him now. “Would it really have hurt you to remember our pain?”

A fleeting thought brushed Hongjoong’s mind. He wasn’t sure if he’d ever seen Yeosang cry before. He found his own eyes were wet as he began to answer, slowly. “I was weak, I’ll admit. That creature could break into even your head if he tried, Yeosang, and I’m afraid I did let him get to me. Those of us who made it out did at great cost. That’s the life we live. All I can offer you is a promise to do better.” 

Yeosang shook his head with a sniffle. “I don’t want your promises. I want Junyoung back.”

...

“Ow ow ow!”

“Just lay back and stop squirming so much!”

Wooyoung was shocked to see a busy San leaning over a bloody mystery person when he walked into the infirmary. “Is everything alright in here?” He surveyed the mess scattered all over the space with a grimace. San barely acknowledged him but answered the question.

“Well, I’ve been trying to get my infirmary back in order. Have you seen my needle and thread? I need to take Seonghwa’s stitches out, did Captain take it to alter his trousers again? Oh, no here it is. Wooyoung, pass the surgical scissors, will you?”

“Surgical scissors?!”

It was Mingi’s voice coming from the bloody mess of a face San was inspecting. Wooyoung did as he was told and slid the cool metal into San’s waiting hand. “Relax,” San mumbled. “It’s just to cut the bandage, not you. Hold this here.” Handkerchief now the proper size, San raised it to his patient’s face and instructed him how to hold his bleeding nose. “What happened?” Wooyoung waited for the right moment to ask. 

“Jongho,” Mingi’s voice cracked as he answered himself. “I walked into our room and he just sprung at me and started punching.” The question “why?” was almost on Wooyoung’s lips when he realised. Jongho had forgotten Mingi. It must have been a quiet dream, the kind of nightmare that sneaks up on you and leaves you paralysed in bed.

“Where is he?” 

“Still in our room. Although I don’t know if I ought to go back there anymore.” 

San patted Mingi’s shoulder as he finished cleaning up. “You can stay here if you need to. For now, just make sure he’s alright and calmed down, will you?” Mingi nodded and got to his feet, still clutching his wrapped nose as he lumbered out. San heaved a sigh and sat back. “Soon I’ll be the only one he remembers,” Wooyoung pointed out sombrely, taking a seat next to his friend. “We’ll stop it before that happens,” San tried to sound upbeat but Wooyoung saw through it. 

“Is there often blood on this table?” San considered it and nodded after a moment. “No one ever walks out of a battle completely unscathed. When they bleed out, this is usually where they do it.” ‘Usually’ because they both knew there was a pool of blood on the deck yesterday and a young boy’s body in it. Wooyoung choked up at the fresh wound. “He was so young. I know powder monkeys who have been killed younger, but he didn’t have to die. He could’ve lived such a lovely life, been anything he wanted to. Why did he want to be like me?”

San leaned into his hunched friend. “It’s unfair. But if I were him, I would want to be like you too.” He smiled a watery smile at Wooyoung and the two sat there for awhile longer.

...

It was quiet for a moment. Yeosang had asked the impossible, but Hongjoong thought it worthwhile to apply for something more substantial.

“What can I do?”

“Give me time and space. I need to see that...that...”

“That what?” It was almost a whisper. 

“That your crew is still the most important to you.”

Hongjoong looked down at the crystal key in his hand. He knew what Yeosang was saying. For Jongho to be healed, the key needed to be destroyed. And any hope of finding Eden and his treasure destroyed with it. Hongjoong’s heart ached at the thought of abandoning his dream. Every ounce of energy he had put into securing his missing piece would be wasted, smashed to bits in some cave and washed to the bottom of the sea. 

But it was worth it. If Jongho could have his life back, if all of them could have their lives back, Hongjoong would be happy. Even at the expense of his. “Then that’s what we’ll do,” his voice was all determination, traces of remorse faded. “The adventure may end here, but there can be more to life than this for the rest of you.” 

...

Promises were indeed kept when the ATEEZ reached Geobugi. Most of the crew members who had been left behind were still there, waiting for their ship to come back for them. A disgruntled hostage was dumped unceremoniously on the dock with a bit of money and some water. He’s probably better off here than as an overseer, Yunho thought as he reassigned men to the rigging teams and scaled the mainmast. It was his first day back in the rigging since San had cleared him for duty, and he was more than ready to be back in his zone.

A favourable wind sped them north to their destination. Jongho had tried to dissuade Hongjoong from making the trip for him, and the officers collectively decided not to tell him about the prerequisite of his curse being broken, lest he refuse to allow the crystal to be shattered. He already spent every waking moment dreading the nighttime, it would be cruel to hand him something else out of his control to worry about. 

They knew they had crossed into the northern hemisphere when mornings became chilly. If they were home on the mainland they would’ve seen trees turning from green to gold as the summer waned. The sun left them earlier and earlier, and the air frosted the sides of the ship. Yunho was glad he had purchased a fur coat back in Geobugi as he pulled it closer around his shivering form. His body had gotten used to the tropics, and the icy winds that swirled in the air around the crow’s nest stung his cheeks the farther north they sailed. 

It was hard to keep his eyes open when snow blew straight into them, and he wished he was on deck enjoying the softer descent of the petal-like flurries with the rest of the crew. Until he spotted something in the dark indigo of the polar ocean. It was a spray of water coming from below the surface. “A whale!” Yunho shouted down over the distracted laughter ringing underneath him. “Look, it’s a whale!” He repeated. A hush fell over the other officers. Yunho watched them dash over to the starboard railing to see as the blowhole of the beast spurted a blast of water again, to the delight of the watchers. 

“Magnificent!” Yunho couldn’t help but laugh at their craned necks, straining out to catch a glimpse while he had the best seat onboard. He could see the outline of the creature, a round head, two flippers, and tapered body that ended in a tail. It was near the size of their own vessel, and it was stunning to behold. The tail lifted out of the water and splashed back down, earning thunderous applause. Seonghwa was at the helm, and he kept the ATEEZ out of the gentle giant’s path, close enough to observe while it remained with them, and picking up speed again when it finally dived under the waves in farewell. Yunho’s sunny demeanour returned. Maybe the north wasn’t so bad after all. 

A scraping sound from the port bow interrupted his daydreams. The ship began to shudder, and the sharp sound of a tree trunk being snapped rang out from below him. He squinted at the side of the ship in alarm. An underwater iceberg had made contact with the side of the ship. He wobbled on his feet, planks beneath him groaning in protest. The mainmast was collapsing.

Yunho clung on to the mast as it tipped forward, sweeping down towards the deck. His heart jumped into his throat at the feeling of momentum picking up and the sound of wood cracking at the base. He squeezed his eyes shut as the falling mast slowed to a stop, just a few feet above the deck. Yunho exhaled shakily and scurried down before the thing fell any more. He joined the others at the base of the mast, a sorry stump of wood almost severed in half from the force of the blow. Mingi jogged over from where he was inspecting the side of the ship. “Are you alright?” He asked the silent Yunho, who gave him a shaky nod and inquired about the port bow. Mingi swallowed. “It’s not taking on too much water, but that’s only because there’s a chunk of ice lodged in it.” 

“We collided!” Seonghwa exclaimed, abandoning the helm to join them. “But why did the mast fall?” “It was unstable,” Hongjoong informed them. He had snuck up at some point. “Needed to be replaced anyway.” Jongho’s bottom lip protruded slightly in a subconscious pout. “Well, now what do we do? We can’t go anywhere like this.” Everyone looked to Yeosang, who already had his map at the ready. 

“Luckily, we won’t have to. We’re already here.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please appreciate how I began and ended the chapter similarly 👀.... and how I randomly included a whale because I saw one a couple of months ago and didn’t write anything about it. So is the ATEEZ going full Titanic mode?!? What’s next for our crew? Tell me what you think!


	11. Dreams Are Everywhere

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dying out here buried under snow and ice, a frozen shell of a human entombed in his own body— not ideal. There was a special shiver snaking its way down his spine at that prospect.

Hongjoong fidgeted with his new fur coat. It was a bit too big for him and the strands on the collar kept getting stuck in his mouth.

As usual, there were a couple of problems that needed to be addressed and it was necessary to split up and try to tackle them simultaneously. San was already working on the hole in the side of the ship, instructing a team to carefully remove the iceberg and patch up the damage before anything permanent resulted. Hongjoong was getting ready to accompany Jongho further inland, to find the place where his memories were supposed to return to him.

They didn’t quite know what they were looking for, but that wasn’t new. Yeosang figured if they followed the map, it would make itself clear and Hongjoong was willing to go along with that idea. He had decided to take Yeosang and Wooyoung with them on their journey. 

Jongho had forgotten all but Yeosang and Wooyoung in the months between the Fortress and the North. It had been a sad decline, each dream erasing something and sometimes someone. Wooyoung spent much of the time in San’s workshop and the phantom look San sported one day when he walked in told him that Jongho had forgotten him, too. It made Wooyoung dread the coming nightmare in which he, the last officer to be added, would be gone without a trace, a stranger to the first of their company he had met and one of his dearest friends.

Jongho took each night as it came, doing his best to eat, sleep, maintain the status quo essentially. He took every necessary precaution to appear unfazed by the black hole it felt was consuming him. Any foothold he could find in his slow sinking descent was clung to. His rigid morning exercise schedule, idle conversation with the crew, even cleaning his newly recovered weaponry. As he joined Hongjoong on the quarterdeck the captain could swear he heard the younger boy muttering, “I’ve missed these babies.” Jongho was armed to the teeth, and it prompted a raised eyebrow from his captain. 

“In case there are wild animals,” he clarified, bristling at the implied skepticism. Hongjoong resisted further questioning, instead grasping a leather-clad shoulder and asking quietly, “You’re alright?” Jongho both nodded and shrugged him off. “Fine.”

Or I will be.

Seonghwa stepped out of the Captain’s (shared) cabin, with an immediate shiver and came to inspect the leaving party. “Where’s your fur?” He frowned at an antsy Jongho. “Didn’t you buy any?” Jongho shook his head distractedly, practically bouncing away with the energy ready to burst out. Seonghwa clucked his tongue quietly and went around adjusting all the collars of those assembled. Yeosang gave his hyung’s hand a squeeze when it reached his black coat and then began climbing over the railing of the ship, eager to explore the newest uncharted territory. 

When Seonghwa patted down the stray threads on his fur collar, Wooyoung risked a glance into his eyes. He was worried, and there wasn’t much he could do other than properly send off his little brothers. Wooyoung knew it would be easiest on all of them not to drag it out, and joined Yeosang at the railing, descending the side. Mingi and Yunho watched silently from the main deck. It was uncharacteristically quiet all over the ship as Seonghwa went to fasten Hongjoong’s coat properly.

“Stop it.”

“Stop what?”

“Fussing.”

“I’m not fussing.”

Hongjoong wanted to snark back but couldn’t help cracking a smile and lowering his head. “Yes you are. And you really don’t need to, I promise we’ll be fine.” Seonghwa met his gaze sternly. Take care of them. That’s what he was saying. He finished the thought out loud. “And don’t make promises you can’t keep.”

Jongho was the last over the side, gritting his teeth in a forced smile as Yunho yelled after him, “You’ll know who we are next time we see you!” 

That was if everything went according to plan.

...

“Please be careful,” San muttered, chewing on his lip as he watched a sizeable ice chunk being carted out of the rip in the hull. Any wrong moves and the thing could dip into the water and flood the entire section. The crew obediently carried the iceberg slice up and out to be stored in the galley until it melted into a source of water supply. If nothing else, Seonghwa was resourceful. 

As soon as the impaling object had been removed, San rushed to inspect the puncture wound. The wood had splintered directly on the seam between two boards, for which San was thankful as he pulled out his tools and got to work. There were some wayward flurries of snow blowing in through the gap and San was immediately entranced. He leaned closer to the hole and peeked out, wanting to catch a glimpse of the billowy white flakes. It took his breath away. It was a masterpiece of dancing powder in the air, even as it picked up speed dangerously. 

There was a jerking motion and San had to grip the surrounding boards to avoid tumbling out and onto the ice. Water began leaking in. “She’s listing!” Mingi’s yell came from above. San squirmed his way back into the hull and hurriedly boarded up the tear before any more icy water flooded in. “A little help!” He screamed up in the general direction of the quarterdeck. Mingi joined him soon enough, mouth closed and hands working for once. 

When the patch was sealed, buckets were called for to bail out the frigid water pooling at their feet. “It getting awfully cold out there,” Mingi remarked around his chattering teeth. “They’d better be back soon.”

...

They had been walking for an hour when the wind picked up. At first it was a slight disturbance, silver swirls striking their faces. Then it was a force pushing them off their feet. It was difficult to keep balance, and they had formed a line, a chain of hands connecting them should anyone lose visibility in the increasingly white desert.

It was the onset of a sudden blizzard, and at the front of the pack Yeosang struggled more and more to find his way. “If we keep heading straight we should arrive at a large cave!” He shouted over his shoulder. He knew they couldn’t hear him over the din of the storm, but it put him slightly more at ease to voice his plan and lay it out so that it sounded less crazy. 

But who was he kidding. Yeosang swept his hand through the frigid air in front of him. He couldn’t even see it through the snow that whipped around them. Just keep heading straight... how hard could it be? They could walk in a straight line, surely. There was a wriggling beneath his skin as he considered the possibility of taking a single step away, just a slight misdirection that could completely alter their course and doom them to losing their way. Dying out here buried under snow and ice, a frozen shell of a human entombed in his own body— not ideal. There was a special shiver snaking its way down his spine at that prospect. 

“Yeosang! Yeosang!” A voice drifted up from behind, where it had been lost in the snowy vortex. “Stop for a minute!” It was Wooyoung’s voice, accompanied by a tug to Yeosang’s sleeve. He turned to the others trudging along behind him. They had stopped in their tracks, and one form had collapsed in the snow. “Jongho,” Wooyoung explained as he pulled Yeosang back towards the other two. “He just fell, I don’t know why.” Hongjoong had been bringing up the rear, and knelt next to Jongho’s body, trying to revive him. He looked up at the approaching Yeosang, cheeks flushed red from the biting wind and wearing a frantic look in his eyes. 

“It’s not a nightmare, I think he’s just exhausted. He tripped and disappeared in the snow.” Hongjoong turned Jongho’s face upwards and parted his hair to reveal a violet bruise growing on his skin. Yeosang groaned. “We’re still a ways off from the cave. Can one of you carry him? If this storm gets much worse we’ll be stuck out here.” Hongjoong nodded and gingerly lifted the younger boy onto his back.

“Wake up, Jongho. Please,” he pleaded as the group resumed their trek. “Please be alright.”

...

“That’s it, I’m going after them.” Mingi rose from the desk and began to stride towards the door. Seonghwa and San grabbed their coats to follow him but were stopped by his extended arm. “You two stay here with the ship.”

Seonghwa pushed his arm down in protest. “Mingi, you’re the Quartermaster. It’s your job to stay with the ship.” Regardless of what logic he used, Mingi knew Seonghwa would do anything to see his fellow officers safe. But he needed him here, with the rest of the crew, so that they had someone to fall back on, God forbid.

“No, while Hongjoong-hyung is gone, I’m the Captain which means you’re the Quartermaster and you’re staying with the ship. Let’s go, Yunho.” Yunho gladly donned his fur coat and followed him. They only made it to the door before they were interrupted again.

“What about me, why can’t I come?” San’s shout was more of a whine. Mingi turned to face him, shaking his head. Why was it so hard for everyone to just do as they were told? Is this what Hongjoong felt like?

“You’re the carpenter, we need you fixing the mast,” It sounded weak after he had said it, but it was the truth. “And besides, Yunho has the best eyesight. We’ll need it in this storm.”

Waves of anxiety rolled off of San. He was trying not to assume the worst, but he worried for Wooyoung in particular. Mingi could sense it and gently grasped the shorter boy’s shoulder. “We’ll find them, don’t worry.” 

Seonghwa nodded curtly from beside them and turned to the window. The howling gale battered the windows of the Captain’s cabin, and the outside was barely visible. He could only pray that the other four were sheltered from it somewhere. “Don’t let her get trapped in the ice,” Mingi cautioned on his way out. “Then we’ll all be stuck here.”

That was a proposition none of them wanted to think about. 

...

Hongjoong had lost feeling in his legs awhile ago. Jongho’s weight began to drag on him, but even if he could be heard by the others in front of them, he didn’t want to pass Jongho over this soon.

It was disconcerting how faint the younger boy’s breath was. It was the only thing Hongjoong could properly hear over the roaring gusts of wind thrashing him, and it was far too weak to bring him any comfort. It began to weigh on his mind and not just his back when he considered how lethargic Jongho had been when he was walking in front of him earlier. 

Wooyoung stumbling up ahead sealed the deal. “Yeosang!” Hongjoong yelled at the top of his lungs. His voice broke and he tried again. “Yeosang!” Thankfully, Wooyoung heard him again and passed on the message. “What now?” Yeosang tried to appear inconvenienced at best but the ice particles clinging to his squinted eyes said otherwise. “We need to stop and warm up—“ “But we’re so close!” Yeosang cut him off before he even had a chance to explain. “Yeosang, we can’t just walk until we collapse. We’ll freeze over before we get anywhere.” He had to stop to take a breath as it was snatched out of his lungs.

“Jongho is freezing and unresponsive. He’ll die if we don’t warm him up.” Hongjoong let his legs go out from under him and gently slid their youngest of his back. “Look!” Dark lashes fanned over snowy white cheeks. It was like his face was covered with a paper thin layer of frost. Yeosang paled, barely noticeable in the blinding white that surrounded him. “Trust me,” Hongjoong begged.

“Alright... let’s... let’s just rest here.” Hongjoong immediately shed his coat and bundled Jongho in it. It felt like giving up, and Yeosang hated that. Never mind the fact that succumbing now made it that much more difficult to get up again. But Wooyoung’s eyes were wide and petrified and Jongho’s ivory face accused him from Hongjoong’s arms. Yeosang’s own feet ached for respite, so he submitted and burrowed into the snow, joining the huddle that Wooyoung and Hongjoong had started.

If Jongho couldn’t generate enough body heat to stay alive, they would have to do it for him.

...

There was an unspoken realisation between Mingi and Yunho that they had no idea where they were going in this whiteout. The snow was blinding and the wind made it difficult to walk straight and as soon as the ATEEZ was out of sight it became very tempting to Mingi to turn back.

Yunho’s eyes were on his back, though, and Mingi was the leader now so he had to remain firm in his decision and march forward with inspiring determination. Even though his ears and nose were burning red. Yunho was beside him, squinting into the white expanse before asking, “Do you know which way they headed?” “Yes!” No. He most definitely did not know which way they headed. Now this entire operation was beginning to sound like a bad idea and Mingi was about to confess to Yunho that he was just as scared (if not more) as he was, when a sharp sound echoed from below.

Pop!

Mingi brought the two person procession to a halt. “What was that?” 

Crack!

Yunho gripped his arm suddenly and took a hasty step back. “Mingi, it’s ice! We’re walking on—“

CRACK!

Just like that, Mingi was gone. The ice broke beneath him and he plunged into the freezing sea with no time to brace himself. Yunho screamed and lowered himself next to the hole that had formed where Mingi had fallen. “Mingi?” He edged his way over as close as he dared. Mingi’s head popped up on cue, gasping and splashing accompanying it. “Mingi!”

“Help!” Mingi’s words were garbled together, from a mixture of sea water and tears in his mouth. “Help me!” His arms flailed above him, grabbing at the nearest chunk of ice that was currently supporting Yunho. Yunho was hit with a sickening feeling as the ice beneath him began to crack. He rolled back a few feet and turned his head in time to see his patch of ice snap off, useless in Mingi’s hands. “Help me!” Mingi was hysterical. It was like time was a vacuum, all that existed was ice and cold and pain until numbness and resignation.

“Calm down!” Yunho returned in a firm voice. “You’re making it worse, just stop moving!” Mingi’s shallow gasps began to slow as he realised this, but his kicking persisted. A sob worked its way out of his throat, “Yunho, h-help...me...” Yunho gritted his teeth and inched forward on his belly, vision clouded by panicked tears as he gingerly made his way forward on the ice. “I’m coming, Mingi, I’m coming.”

Mingi’s kicks slowed and the water under him finally stilled with him. Yunho’s hand reached over the edge of the ice hole and above Mingi’s head. Mingi pushed away the pain of his freezing legs and jerked them one last time, grasping the hand for dear life. Yunho began to back away again, listening intently for the telltale cracking that would mean another collapse and motioning for Mingi to roll with him as soon as his torso was above the water line. Mingi ceased his blubbering and concentrated, pouring all his focus into climbing out safely and rolling away alive. 

The painstaking seconds passed with slow but intentional movements back toward more solid ice. When Yunho nodded his agreement, they stopped and just lay for a moment, panting for breath. Yunho rubbed some warmth back into Mingi’s limbs and picked ice flecks out of his soggy hair as he stuttered out an apology. “Yunho, I’m s-so... s-s-sorry...” Yunho shook his head at the trembling boy in amazement and turned to where the ATEEZ rested.

“Let’s just get you back home.”

...

Wooyoung jerked awake in surprise. He hadn’t realised he was asleep. There was no feeling in his hands and feet still but as he shifted his torso a sound escaped from nearby. 

“I can’t see anything.” Yeosang. And he was right. Wooyoung drew a sharp breath as he looked around and realised he couldn’t see anything either. It was dark. Had they been asleep that long? Wooyoung waved his hand into the shadows in front of them and made contact with something soft. Snow!

Wooyoung sat up and brushed the snow off. The world came into view as the flurries shook off. It was like they were in a completely different place than the one they had laid down in. The blizzard had evidently passed, and they were left with feet of snow deposited on them. As he brushed the snow off of the others, Wooyoung was thankful they hadn’t slept later. The air pocket they created wouldn’t have lasted them much longer. Yeosang was shaking the other two in an effort to revive them.

“Hongjoong? Hongjoong! Don’t you pass out on me, too.” Hongjoong clutched Jongho in a vicelike grip and didn’t want to be stirred. “No, I’m awake, I’m awake...” he mumbled shifting and pulling the youngest up with him. “Oh...” He looked around at the snow piled on all sides. “How do we know which way to go?” He asked quietly, realising their footprints were long erased. It was like being on the open ocean, no way of telling which direction was the right one. Unless... “The stars?” Yeosang suggested it, as expected. “We’ll have to wait a few hours for the sun to set,” Wooyoung pointed out. “And it’ll be colder at night. Do we want to risk that?” The answer was no, and none of them needed to say it out loud.

Jongho groaned from buried in Hongjoong’s coat. Immediately everyone’s attention was on him and he was met with three anxious faces staring at him when he was able to force his eyes open. “Wha...?” “You were right,” Yeosang couldn’t help but smile at Hongjoong. “Sharing our heat with him did work.” Yeosang felt a little silly for not thinking of it himself, insulating themselves in the snow to warm up. It was risky, but evidently it paid off. Now they had places to be. 

“That way.” 

“You’re sure?” Wooyoung questioned. The last thing he wanted was to end up buried in the snow again, this time a cold and lifeless corpse. 

“I’m sure.” Yeosang directed his next comment at Hongjoong. “I trusted you, now you trust me.” And that was the final word on it. A woozy Jongho was mounted on Hongjoong’s back again and the march continued.

...

Seonghwa and San flew into a frenzy of activity to help Yunho get Mingi back on the ATEEZ and take care of him properly. Yunho was reduced to sitting in a chair in the infirmary answering every question that was hurled at him.

“How long was he in the water?”

“Couldn’t have been more than a minute.”

“Are you sure? That’s long enough for hypothermia to set in. Did he suddenly become lethargic?”

“Only when I told him to, he couldn’t get out of the water thrashing around like that.”

“When you pulled him out, did you dry him off immediately or wait a moment or two?”

“I don’t know, I mean it seemed like awhile but I did the best I could to stop the ice from cracking any more—“

“—Seonghwa-hyung, help me get these off him!” San finally broke into the interrogation from Mingi’s bedside where he was trying to pull the patient’s clingy coat off. Seonghwa left Yunho alone to help Mingi out of the cold and dripping clothes he was stuck in before fetching San some rags from the galley to soak in hot water. 

“Will he be alright?” Yunho watched San assess his patient, who was drifting in and out of consciousness. He knew it wasn’t his fault, but it still felt like venturing out there had done much more harm than good, and they were no closer to knowing if the others were alright. San turned to him, wrapping Mingi up in every spare bit of warm clothing he had found. “He will be once he gets warmed up and has some hot food in him. But I think no more excursions into the blizzard.”

Yunho nodded in agreement. You could say that again. 

...

Wooyoung knew they were in the right place when flat topography gave way to a more jagged terrain, building up to a system of icy caves that jutted out from the tallest hill in the area. The large one in the middle radiated a mystical feeling and Wooyoung didn’t need Yeosang to check his sketches and confirm to know that this was the one. 

Jongho insisted on walking himself but accepted an arm to lean on when it became difficult to stay on his feet. The light behind them waned but what rays reached out were caught and redirected in the sparkling gems scattered throughout the walls and ceiling.

“We’re here.”

Yeosang’s voice echoed through the stone chamber, resounding with a gravity that invoked ancient tales of magic and mystery. Sharp but beautiful, icicles strung along the mouth of the cave looked not unlike crystals themselves. “If we go all the way in, do you think—“ “We’d better not,” Hongjoong advised Wooyoung. “Only as far as we need to. We want to get back before dusk, remember.”

It was enchanting. The farther in they went the less their aching bodies troubled them. There was a beautiful array of gemstones to look at and each was more beautiful than the last. Coming to the middle of the cave, the centrepiece of the entire network, they were greeted by a mountain of crystals. Hongjoong pulled out his crystal key to compare it. The thing was half the size and splendour of the sparkling pieces at the top of the mountain, but there was a tugging on his heart as he remembered what he would have to do to it. 

“I’m ready.”

It was the first coherent thing Jongho had said since waking, and it came as a surprise to no one. A hard fought battle with his own fading memory was about to be ended, and now there was only one thing standing in his way. “Right...” Hongjoong handed the necklace over after rubbing it one last time, a grave expression on his face. 

As if he had read in a book somewhere how to proceed, Jongho broke the little charm off its chain and carried it to the crystal altar. Yeosang nodded in encouragement. It was like diamond, only capable of being broken by itself. With a deep breath, Jongho raised it in his fist and brought it crashing down, dashed to pieces on the sharp crystals of the centre structure. 

From the broken shards a blinding light emitted, so bright that all four had to shield their eyes from it. When Wooyoung opened his, Jongho was on the ground. He rushed to the boy’s side and shook him awake. Please let it work... Jongho’s eyes flitted over to his. “Wooyoung!” The moment of truth.

“I remember!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lol I’m sorry Mingi... one day, I promise, things will go alright for you!! Hope you enjoyed, please leave some love <3 almost at the end of this part!


	12. Treasure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finally, here. Mile after bloodstained mile had brought them to this place, the last place. The end of their expedition and the discovery of their dreams.

Mingi frequently welcomed the embrace of sleep, but there was something enticing him out this time. Light touches on his skin, gently rubbing life and pale pink colour back into him. His nose twitched in response to the mouth-watering aroma of gloriously seasoned meat drifting through the air. San’s giggle sounded somewhere nearby.

“Now he’s back.”

Mingi screwed open his bleary eyes, which had been sealed tight, and pouted at San in confusion. Something heavy on top of him was preventing him from reaching his hand out for the food. Seonghwa’s head leaned into Mingi’s peripherals next to San, shaking with amusement. “You put too many blankets on him, San.” A glance down at the stack of furs and fleeces confirmed this and Mingi returned his gaze to San expectantly.

San reeled in a fake swoon before leaning in. “Don’t look at me like that, Mingi. How do you feel?” Mingi decided to let San’s antics pass and opened his mouth to answer the question, but found his voice to be missing. A mutilated sound escaped and threw him into a coughing fit from its hoarseness. Seonghwa moved in to pat his back and mutter at him to just relax before relinquishing the steaming bowl of beef stew with a spoonful aimed at Mingi’s mouth. A heavenly warmth radiated through his insides as he obediently opened up and consumed his bite of food. It tickled his heart and spread a smile on his face.

Mingi was extremely thankful for the return of feeling in his limbs. Nothing had been more terrifying than the onset of numbness and resignation as the freezing water fought him and won. He had been rescued just in time. Suddenly Mingi shifted in his blanket pile to look for Yunho. 

Apart from himself and the hovering San and Seonghwa, the room was empty. “Where...?” He tried to croak out his question and San filled him in. “Yunho’s getting firewood. We’re trying to warm you two back up.” Mingi swallowed hard. “The others...?” “Haven’t come back yet,” Seonghwa said quietly, sitting back in his chair and looking down into the bowl of stew. “I’m sure they’re fine,” the voice remarked from the doorway. Yunho entered with an armful of wood and immediately dropped it upon seeing Mingi awake, eyes plate-sized and ecstatic.

“You’re alright!” Yunho squeezed the younger boy in a hug, and Mingi leaned into it gratefully. “I told you he would be!” San jabbed, picking up the forgotten wood planks and completing Yunho’s job for him. Seonghwa sat up again and placed the bowl of food in Yunho’s hands. Yunho tenderly offered Mingi spoonfuls at appropriate intervals and Seonghwa threw on his coat to go back out on deck. “The mainmast needs to be finished still,” he explained when San threw him a confused look. “The others could be back any minute.” 

He sure hoped they had fared better than Yunho and Mingi had.

...

“And that’s when I discovered humans can sing siren songs too, if taught correctly.”

“Very interesting, Jongho,” Wooyoung piped up from the front of the line. The four adventurers were treading back through the snow toward the ship, wrinkled spellbook pages forgotten, simply following their instincts and the faint trace of salty air in the southern direction. Jongho’s spirits had lifted significantly following the return of his memories, and he’d been talking their ears off about every detail of his life that had come back to him. Some were still shrouded in the past, but simply out of the normal ageing process that leaves memories behind to make room for more. Wooyoung had thought it would be almost superhuman if Jongho’s infant years were gifted to him as well, and that was hardly fair. 

Wooyoung had a smile frozen onto his face at all the stories Jongho had to share now. It was fascinating to hear about what he had been like in earlier years, and every detail confirmed their Jongho had hardly changed. “Oh, Wooyoung! Remember when you dyed Yeosang’s hair pink?” The smile was gone. Wooyoung’s head whipped around to see Yeosang’s reaction. An embarrassed blush crept on to Yeosang’s face and he opened his mouth to chew Wooyoung out for it, but Wooyoung cut him off and blurted, “It was San’s idea!” 

“What? So it wasn’t Yunho?”

“No, it was us, but San said we could blame it on him....”

“Why were you in on it, then? If it was all San’s idea?”

“Because you dyed my hair a couple of days earlier so I thought it would be a fun revenge idea.”

“I did not dye your hair!”

“Then who did? It has to be you, you were the only one in the room with me!”

“What, you didn’t consider San? The person you know is capable of dying hair and blaming it on others?” 

“Hey, isn’t that the mainmast?” Hongjoong suddenly interrupted. He was squinting through powdery air at a skeletal shape in the air above and ahead of them. 

“San was as drunk as I was that night, what makes you think he really got out of bed just to dye my hair this ridiculous shade of purple—“

“Wooyoung! Yeosang! Look!” It was Jongho breaking in this time, nudging Wooyoung’s side and pointing in front of them. “Captain, you’re right, I think that’s her.” Hongjoong broke out into a wide smile. “They fixed the mast already!” Finally Wooyoung and Yeosang turned to see for themselves. Their accusations were growing in volume to be silenced at the comforting sight of their home. All four of them broke out into a run.

“We’re back!” A muffled call reached Seonghwa’s ears and repeated itself until he turned and looked over the railing. Four shadowy figures were quickly advancing below on the sheet of ice next to the ATEEZ, and Seonghwa was so startled, he had pulled his gun out and aimed it before he realised what was happening. “It’s us!” The person in front was jumping up and down and after staring for another second, he recognised it to be Hongjoong and flew into action. Soon the other three had joined him on deck, waving their members closer with encouraging smiles. Even a wobbling Mingi was there, supported by Yunho. 

The air was ripe with anticipation as Jongho, the final officer onto the ship, took a deep breath and looked around at his friends. “Seonghwa, San, Mingi, Yunho,” he made eye contact with each of them and a moment later a cheer broke out. San had grasped Wooyoung’s arm and was shaking him in excitement. Wooyoung’s smile shined from his eyes. On San’s face was the thrill of possibilities opening up again. Wooyoung had felt it himself a few hours prior. Their Jongho was back, and then some. 

“Wait until you hear about his life growing up with mermaids!” Wooyoung grasped San back and laughed with him. “Wait until you hear what he has to say about you and your hair dye fiascos!” Yeosang had joined them and San went pale as he realised he had been discovered. “I’m sorry, hyung,” Jongho winced at San. “I didn’t mean to tell, I was just so excited I remembered it...” San shook his head and gave their youngest a tight squeeze. “Don’t worry about it, Jongho, the cat would be let out of the bag eventually.” “But not by you!” Yeosang teased. “I think I’d rather have Jongho fix my hair from now on. He’s trustworthy and he’s probably better at it.”

Hongjoong had cornered Mingi the moment he set foot on the ATEEZ and asked him what was wrong. Mingi stuttered around for a moment, astonished that the older boy could tell immediately that he was out of sorts. Yunho filled in for him with a brief explanation of their icy experience and Seonghwa reassured the captain that Mingi was already well along the road to recovery. Yunho was about to insist Mingi go back inside and burrow under the blankets again when Mingi’s eyes caught something.

The empty chain around Hongjoong’s neck.

“You destroyed the key,” it wasn’t a question. Hongjoong nodded at Mingi, playing it off like it wasn’t a big deal. Flakes of snow began to descend in a lackadaisical way. Mingi blinked back tears. “So it’s over? We’re just... going back to our lives?” “Some of us can’t go back,” Seonghwa choked out. He meant himself of course, but also the crew at large. From the captain to the youngest powder monkey, they were a group of lost boys. Some had strayed too far from home or never had one to begin with. “It’s entirely up to all of you,” Hongjoong reassured him. All seven of them rested their attention on their captain. 

“We know where the treasure is. We can go there and do our best to find it, or we can sail elsewhere, keep exploring, journey where we please. I’m open to everything.” Yeosang was touched by this and a smile grew on his face as he looked at Hongjoong. “I think we might as well go after the treasure,” he suggested. The others voiced their agreement. “Even if we can’t open it, perhaps we’ll discover something new.”

His suggestion was more than a logical decision, it was an affirmation for Hongjoong. Yeosang had placed his trust in him back there in the snowdrifts and been rewarded for it. A wave of relief swept the captain. Finally it seemed they were all back together, in body and mind. “Well,” Hongjoong sighed contentedly. “What’s for supper? I’m starving.” Seonghwa smiled and rolled his eyes. “Let’s get the four of you warmed up properly first.”

...

The blustery North was soon behind them, and snow capped trees slowly trickled into view as they passed more temperate land. Work was attended to cheerfully as long as everyone was well fed with preserved meat Seonghwa broke out every once in awhile. The empty chain was discarded in Hongjoong’s canvas bag and he found himself out on deck with his crew more and more, spending fewer nights with stuttering candles and the  
shifting skin of the sea. If he was up late it was either because he was so caught up in writing down all their adventures or because he couldn’t sleep anyway. Maybe it was Seonghwa’s encouraging him out of the cabin and maybe it was the lack of work to do while they sailed southeast, to the island with an X.

A day’s sail off from their final destination, the atmosphere was different. The ship was shrouded in fog and the men were quiet, subliminally afraid that something would appear in the mist, looming down on them to dash them to pieces. Seonghwa called for lamps to be brought and hung on the yardarms and waited for Yunho’s call. Something was lurking there, he just felt it.

“Could anyone be this far east?” Mingi nervously muttered from the quarterdeck. He had made a near full recovery in the past few weeks, the only remnant being a pesky sneeze, and was in his usual spot, spyglass in hand. “There could be entire civilisations this far east, that’s the beauty of it,” Yeosang remarked from the side railing. “We have no idea at all.” 

“Blockade!”

Yunho’s shrill scream pierced the droplet-clustered air from the crow’s nest. 

“Navy blockade?” Seonghwa shouted up. It was impossible. The Navy never went this far from the mainland, and if they made a blockade— “They knew we were coming!” San finished for him, muttering a curse and going to fetch his gun. “I don’t understand, we haven’t had a Navy run-in since Maddox’s Island, that was months ago,” Jongho was already armed and ready but couldn’t wrap his head around this unwelcome surprise. “Maddox,” Wooyoung gritted out. “He must have told them where we were headed. You showed him the map, didn’t you?” He directed his question at Hongjoong who was striding to the forecastle, fire in his eyes. “It wasn’t Maddox,” he insisted. “Maddox wouldn’t betray us.”

“What are we going to do?” Mingi joined him at the forecastle, weight shifting from foot to foot. “Should I call to lower the colours—?” “No, leave our flag up,” Hongjoong was adamant. There was no hiding now. “We’re running the blockade.”

A stir broke out on deck as the hands all heard his words and reacted to them. “This is crazy,” Yeosang complained, but only Wooyoung heard him. “You’re not saying this blockade is here solely for the purpose of catching us, are you?” Yeosang simply nodded. Wooyoung was dumbfounded by this. Sure, he wasn’t up on the news of how much money he had on his head for joining the ATEEZ, but it seemed a little excessive for the Navy to send an entire flotilla of ships after one, albeit threatening, pirate band.

“They’ve got a red flag raised,” Yunho reported as he climbed down from the crow’s nest. Red flag meant no quarter, Wooyoung realised as the hair on his neck stood on end. “Awaiting your orders, Captain.” Hongjoong wasted no time. “I want hands aloft to loose all mainsails and topsails. Wooyoung, run a shot across the bow when you get them in your sights but all cannons hold fire until my signal.” 

All the members and their teams burst into action, readying the ship for a confrontation and arming themselves just in case they had to go down with a fight. The ATEEZ’s speed picked up with the unfurling of her sails and hazy grey blobs that crossed each other in the distance grew closer. The reality of a naval blockade began to hit Wooyoung as he waited patiently at the bow-chaser. Two perfectly maintained lines of armed warships crossed each other in a uniform manner, leaving barely enough room for a schooner, let alone a frigate, to pass through. 

“She’s small and fast,” Yeosang was at his side, chewing on his lip but trying to sound upbeat. “She’ll make it.” Wooyoung swallowed and turned back to the systematic procession in front of them. “What if she doesn’t?” Wooyoung waited for an answer but got none.

Oh.

That was it, then. 

“Guns ready?” Hongjoong called out from behind him. “Aye, Captain,” Wooyoung answered levelly. “On the count of five then,” came Hongjoong’s response. Wooyoung released a shaky breath and readied himself. 

“Five...”

Everything was locked and loaded, his squads were all ready to go at the gunwale when he joined them after giving the warning shot, so what was he so nervous about?

“Four...”

It suddenly occurred to him that he had never been in an actual fight with the Navy before. His brother was in the Navy, and so was Yeosang’s father. Wooyoung assumed Seonghwa’s older brother probably had a role in the military as well, being the crown prince and all.

“Three...”

What if the crown prince was on the ship he was aiming at? Maybe that was ridiculous, a prince commanding a blockade to catch some teenaged pirates, but it would make sense for Yeosang’s father to be there. He was the head navigator, they would need him to have gotten this far from home. But Yeosang was silent next to him. If he had considered this, he hadn’t put a stop to the shot Wooyoung was about to fire.

“Two...”

Wooyoung suddenly felt sick. His own brother might be on that ship. The chances were slim but still there was a chance. And for all his renouncing the Navy and joining the ATEEZ, for all his claims that his family was dead to him, and for all his love for and camaraderie with his fellow officers, he still couldn’t bring himself to risk that one chance.

“One...”

That one slim chance. 

“Fire!”

“I can’t.”

Everyone was shocked, Wooyoung included. “You can’t?” Yeosang hissed from next to him. “Wooyoung you’re going to miss your chance, fire now!” Wooyoung turned around and let the fuse slip from his fingers. Hongjoong’s eyes were wide “Wooyoung, wait— fire!” “I said I can’t!” Wooyoung was firm this time, unapologetic even as they hurtled at top speed toward a flotilla of enemies hellbent on killing all of them. “No, he means fire!” Seonghwa shouted, pointing at the fuse which had just ignited the boards below Wooyoung’s feet and then running to grab a water bucket. 

Wooyoung breathed in sharply. He had dropped the lit fuse directly on the deck and a fire was indeed growing with dangerous speed. “Excellent work,” Jongho growled, voice dripping with sarcasm, as he ran off to help Seonghwa fetch water. Wooyoung was speechless and could only stand there gaping and guilty as Hongjoong drew his own gun and fired it in the general direction of the closest ship blocking them. “There,” he mumbled. “Warning shot fired.” Wooyoung didn’t know what to say but he felt he owed an explanation. “Captain—“ “Just get to the gun deck. And fire on my command this time, will you?” Wooyoung nodded and retreated, burning scarlet. 

He was still terrified as he crouched by the gunwale that he may be called upon to blast a Navy ship out of the water. Without knowing for sure where his hyung was at that exact moment, he couldn’t trust his luck that he was safe at home and not in the crossfire. 

Wooyoung watched and waited through the nearest porthole as the blockade came closer and closer. The ATEEZ was making excellent time cruising through the fog toward it, but Wooyoung knew their presence had been noted. It was unlikely they would have been able to slip through under the cover of the mist but Wooyoung couldn’t justify Hongjoong’s orders to fire a warning. Why would he want the Navy to spot them?

Warning shot or not, the fire ablaze on the forecastle was a beacon for the Navy to see them, aim, fire, and sink. Wooyoung screwed his eyes shut. It would have to be a miracle to make it through alive. 

The seconds turned to minutes and before he knew it there was a frigate dead ahead slowly ambling across their path. Another one followed just a ship length behind, and Wooyoung knew it was their opening. The powder monkeys whispered next to him and he shushed them before lighting his fuse again. He could do it this time. If Hongjoong said fire, he would fire. 

But the order never came. Wooyoung watched as the ship in front of them continued on, too close to the advancing ATEEZ to alter course. Gunshots could be heard above on the main deck, and Wooyoung’s trigger finger itched to join the action but he watched and waited still, ready for his command. They were in the gap between Navy frigates, and out of the port side Wooyoung could see the next ship attempting to pick up speed and ram them. He clutched his fuse for dear life and waited for the end to come.

But nothing happened. When Wooyoung opened his eyes again there was only the creaking of the ship and the rolling waves they cut through. Wooyoung peered back through the fog to confirm that they had in fact escaped and successfully run the blockade. His sigh of relief was more of a gasp for air and he shook the fuse until the flame went out before dismissing his gun teams. That was enough action for today.

San and Yeosang were in the stern watching the blockade grow smaller in the distance. One figure looked back at them from the opposing side. Yeosang’s eyes widened with recognition and he stumbled backward. A tall man, bearded, with a stern look... it was his owner. San had to catch him as he reeled as if he had been struck. It took San a moment but he recognised the man, too. “The magician from the Fortress island! What’s he doing with the Navy?” Seonghwa rushed over to help guide Yeosang to his room, recognising the younger boy’s panic stricken state and wanting to get him away from the situation. 

“It wasn’t Maddox after all,” San whispered, teary eyed. “The magician called the Navy in on us.” Wooyoung emerged from the gun deck just in time to see Yeosang being helped away and was about to go after him when Jongho grabbed his shoulder. “He’s not wounded, don’t worry.” Wooyoung turned to look at the youngest. He had some blood leaking from his forearm but looked otherwise unharmed. “Just a scratch,” Jongho smiled at him and walked to his own room. “No one seriously injured. It was a miracle, really.”

A miracle. 

Wooyoung’s hand covered his mouth as he looked around at the scorched surface of the ship. The pain in Hongjoong’s eyes as he surveyed the damage to the forecastle was a bullet lodged in Wooyoung’s heart. 

The first of Jongho’s prophecies he had ever witnessed had ended with a foreboding image of burning ships. Back then it had been a key to the larger story, Hongjoong’s own tale of long battle and strife with the Navy that Wooyoung had wanted once to dedicate his life to. Now it was a reality, crackling and blazing in front of him, heating frigid air with a wild intensity and leaving a black scar that lingered long after orange and yellow were erased by healing water. Wooyoung had just single handedly brought the prophecy to fruition. He had ruined his own home and maybe worse. 

Yunho looked equally grieved as he approached Wooyoung. “It will heal,” was all he said. He couldn’t reassure Wooyoung it wasn’t his fault, or tell him it wasn’t as bad as it looked. “We’ll get to the treasure island.” That much he could be sure of, if he calculated it correctly. The two of them watched Hongjoong retreat back into the captain’s cabin with a great feeling of regret.

One by one everyone returned to their stations or rooms, and San ended up in Wooyoung and Yeosang’s dorm with the two of them and Seonghwa. Seonghwa was rubbing Yeosang’s back as he shook with tears. He couldn’t control the sudden onset of emotions threatening to overflow out of him. Seeing that man on the deck had triggered something inside that he thought had been buried when he escaped. 

In a burst of anger, he tore the spellbook pages out of his coat pocket and cast them on the ashes of the fireplace. San, who had been awkward and quietly loitering in the corner until now, cried out and rushed to save the papers from being burned. He salvaged what he could and pocketed them, spinning to gape at Yeosang. “Why would you do that? These are valuable!”

“I don’t want anything to do with them. I don’t want anything to do with him, and his slave estate and his magic—“ Seonghwa shushed Yeosang and pulled him close as hiccups broke into his reply. He glared at San over Yeosang’s fluffy hair and San conceded, slipping back out and into his own room, bringing the spellbook pages with him. 

Wooyoung watched him go from his hammock, heart aching from a variety of sources, none of which he was easily able to identify. He wanted to ease the knot in his chest somehow but all he could do was listen to Yeosang’s decreasing sniffles. Just before he drifted off he registered Seonghwa leaving and Yeosang climbing into his hammock and allowed sleep to take him. 

...

“Hongjoong?”

“At your service,” he sighed after a pause, not looking up from the desk. He had found the drawback to having a roommate; not being able to stay up to ungodly hours of the night. 

“You’re awake?” Seonghwa hadn’t meant for the question to be out loud but it escaped him. “So are you,” Hongjoong chuckled back. There was an awkward moment, Seonghwa’s eyes unrelenting but no words being spoken. He had been with Yeosang, trying to calm him down into the late hours of the night, but the scene wasn’t unusual for the two of them. Finally, Hongjoong sat back and cleared his throat, risking a glance. “Would you prefer me to go somewhere else?”

“I’d prefer you to go to sleep.” Blunt but necessary in Seonghwa’s view. Hongjoong kept his grimace off his face. “I’ll only lie awake if I try.” Seonghwa was the type of person to keep up the argument until he won it and Hongjoong was the type not to back down until he was forced to, so both of them heaved a sigh and waited for someone to say something. “How’s Yeosang?” It was Hongjoong who broke the ice.

Seonghwa raised his eyebrows. He was surprised Hongjoong had noticed Yeosang needing to be escorted off while he was busy taking care of the fire in the forecastle. “He’ll be alright, I think,” Seonghwa answered honestly and moved to lie in his hammock, tired of standing resolute in the doorway. “The man who bought him back at the Fortress was on that ship. If he was working with the Navy all along it doesn’t bode well for our chances getting back to the west.” That was if they even wanted to go back west. Seonghwa supposed it was meant to happen at some point.

Hongjoong knew all of this, of course, but it did no harm to ask for Seonghwa’s take. He found the older boy was actually very good at giving advice, or at least reframing situations in a way that helped him see differently. “That place left a stain on us,” Hongjoong sighed eventually, relinquishing his work at the desk and climbing into his own bed. “You too,” Seonghwa’s voice peeped out from under the covers. “You still won’t talk about it but I know this is new.” Hongjoong played dumb. “What is?”

“Doubt. In us, in yourself. The Master put it there, didn’t he? And even dead, he won’t leave you alone.” He wanted to shoot something back in defence, ask Seonghwa what he could possibly know about it, but the words bounced around in Hongjoong’s head, even after they both fell asleep. He was right, even months later the Fortress was affecting them and their teamwork. 

“I won’t let it happen,” Hongjoong decided before blowing out the candle at his bedside.

...

The sun finally ventured out from behind clouds and welcomed them to the sparkling seas and inviting green of their treasure island. 

All the struggles from yesterday were in the past now as their destination grew closer and closer. There was an air of nervousness with the moment upon them. Eight pairs of footprints in the sand claimed their place and trailed away in the direction of their treasure. 

Finally, here. Mile after bloodstained mile had brought them to this place, the last place. The end of their expedition and the discovery of their dreams.

It was a silent walk to the spot with the X marked on it. There was almost a feeling of reverence when Hongjoong suddenly stopped and nodded at them. “This is it.” Everyone looked around the clearing they had ended up in. Fragrant flowers bloomed up all around and a stream was trickling by lazily. “It’s like paradise,” Wooyoung whispered. The dream was coming true in front of them and they could hardly hold themselves back as their shovels got to work. 

The sun bearing down didn’t faze them, and their coats were thrown off and efforts doubled until the telltale thunk of shovel hitting metal ceased all activity. “I’ve got something!” Yunho was the lucky digger, and everyone pitched in to help him raise the sizeable chest out of the sand. Golden grains cascaded around it, and even rusty and weather-beaten, it was the perfect picture of adventure to the eight boys. “There’s a lock on it, with a spot for the crystal key,” San groaned. Just as they had thought. Everyone looked to Hongjoong for what to do next, but he didn’t pay attention, instead inspecting the lock closely. 

“I think I can pick it,” he suddenly said, looking up in excitement. “With what?” Jongho laughed. “We can’t exactly sail all the way back to the North and get another one.” Hongjoong didn’t answer him, but his hand went to his ear. Commotion broke out as they realised what he was doing. “Of course!” Mingi threw up his arms. “Why didn’t I think of that.” He was using one of his earrings to pick the lock.

Sweat rolled down their faces as they waited patiently. It was tantalising, the promise of their greatest pleasure right in front of them, and when the satisfying click emitted from the lock, complete silence fell. Carefully, Hongjoong tilted the lid back. 

A veritable mountain of golden coins shimmered up at him, reflecting the sunlight onto his face. The others leaned in and gawked at the twinkling jewels in amazement. “It’s beautiful,” Yeosang breathed. “It’s enough!” Mingi realised, his voice growing in volume with his excitement. “It’s enough for all of us, for all our debts and more! It’s enough for our crew probably too, most likely and—“ “My sister’s medicine!” San butted in, running his fingers over the smooth surfaces of the coins. “And my brother and I can get our own home and buy our own food!” Yunho was beaming, cheeks shining in pure joy. “Anything we want or need, for years to come, all taken care of,” Seonghwa could still barely believe it.

Hongjoong sat back and watched them dig in, filtering through the wealth of treasure contained in the box. It put a smile on his face to see them so happy, and yet there was a strange feeling lurking below the surface. It was ending, just like this. Somewhat anticlimactic after everything they had been through. Eden had protected the location to this with his life and...

Eden.

Hongjoong stood and looked around the clearing, falling into the familiar practice of searching for human traces. “Captain, who cares if the island is inhabited!” Jongho laughed at him from his spot next to the treasure chest. Hongjoong didn’t really know how to explain. “I was just thinking...” The others chatted on and he didn’t need to finish his sentence. 

I was just thinking...

...Maybe Eden would be here, too.

Hongjoong’s heart fell and he knelt by the sparkling stream. That’s what it had really been about all along. It wasn’t the money, the treasure, or the promise of adventure alone. The reward was Eden and finding him. He hadn’t found him yet, and that’s why there was still a seed of disappointment inside. 

Jongho and San were already picking up the chest to transport it back to the ship. Mingi approached Hongjoong to hand his earring back. “So, hyung... heading back west?”

Everything Maddox said came back full force. Here they were, in the place where Eden had guided them, but there was no trace of him. He didn’t want to be found, not even by Hongjoong. There were two paths now, to continue to aimlessly wander in search of him, or to go home. 

“Yes, Mingi. Let’s go home.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Treasure is... disappointing?
> 
> Well, if that’s not a sign of adventure to come then what is xD. It was a hard chapter to write and maybe also a bit emotional for me i I’m honest. Hope you enjoyed the development in volume 2!! Always a healthy (?) balance of angst and fluff in here because reasons, and you can expect even more for volume 3. Thanks for following our journey this far and please continue to support the upcoming work!

**Author's Note:**

> Volume 2! Easing into the action a bit but keep anticipating, things will pick up. I should preface it with a warning that things are getting more intense and there will be more and more potentially disturbing content. Thanks as always for the support xoxo


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